Child of the Light one
by Silent Sigh
Summary: He has achieved his dreams, but Ash feels himself gradually undergoing change, a change he cannot understand. Meanwhile a Mythical Pokemon is about to end her legacy, but by choice. Could the two events be linked? AAMR/suspense/Mystery.
1. You never know enough...

Hi! This is Dan, back again with a new fanfiction. This is not related to my previous fanfics unlike the other two which link together, so don't worry if you haven't read them. Mind you, if you haven't and you're reading this maybe you would like to take a look if you enjoy this so far. (Looks around to see everyone laughing.) Well, it was worth a try!  
  
The fanfiction is almost entirely set in the first person, and the person changes throughout the story. Who it is affects what they hear - some of the Pokemon can't be understood by some of the human characters, and so their speech won't be translated. But if the person whose point of view it is can undersand the Pokemon speaking, the translated speech will be given. I make it sound far more complicated than it is! So: "Normal speech appears like this" ("Translated pokemon speech appears like this")  
  
Anyhow, feel free to leave any comments you want to make, whether you enjoyed it or not!  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or Pokemon in this fanfic, they are the possession of 4kids, Nintendo and all other owners of Pokemon.  
Child of the light one - Chapter I  
:Yes, it is my mistake. I wanted this, but not in this way. It is not my fault, no, I have been far away for many years, and naivety rather than stupidity has caused this situation. Maybe if I'd thought for a while I could have worked it out, but the dice have been rolled, the cards dealt. Now I must just wait and see how the game progresses.:  
The flames flicker, casting strange illusions never seen, only glimpsed. It's funny really, staring into a fire. It brings me all sorts of memories, maybe unseen futures, but they pass as soon as they arrive. I've never understood why, but I've always found it particularly enchanting. I remember Brock saying that I looked at a glowing campfire with more intensity than Misty stares at the ocean. I replied that everyone stares at a fire in the dark, but he disagreed, telling me I was something else. There's always been something about fire that's alluring to me. I can't work out what, perhaps its grace, its effortless power, its glowing light, and deep down, despite all its wondrous qualities, its fragility..  
  
"Hello! Earth to Ash!" Misty, being subtle as always. I keep staring at the fire, now for two reasons. One, to try and finally capture the essence it contains which does this to me, and two it'll sure as hell annoy Misty. "Hel-lo! Is there anything in that dense skull of yours?" Dense. Yeah, that's what I'm defined as. Look in the dictionary and under the term dense you'll find yours truly, the name Ashton Satoshi Ketchum. It's true when I was younger I couldn't see some things if they were staring me in the face, and to a degree I still have a blind spot to the obvious. But I'm not stupid, far from it.  
  
"Hey Ash, you okay?" Brock now enters the fray, a touch of concern in his voice. I ignore him - no I don't, you ignore people when you willingly disregard what they say. I'm not ignoring him, but I'm not listening either. I'm not deep in thought, yet I'm not dreaming. Somewhere in between. My mind tells me that it'll only be a few more seconds before Misty makes another stinging remark..  
  
"He's just being an airhead as usual." Yes, right on cue. Perhaps it's time I took an active role in this discussion about me.  
  
"If you call thinking being an airhead, then everyone is either dense for thinking or an idiot for not." She's caught flat-footed, and after wallowing for a second with mouth ajar she glares daggers at me, fiery hair washing across her face.  
  
("Where'd that come from? Who cares, it was brilliant!") Pikachu giggles, sending Mistys face red as the fire.  
  
"It's not polite to ignore someone when they're trying to talk to them."  
  
"It's not polite to badmouth someone when they don't reply." I shoot back.  
  
"Whew, thirty-love to Ash!" Brock laughs at the verbal sparring. "I'd quit now Misty, while you're behind." Misty humphs in response, but complies.  
  
("Ash, you never explained this to us properly. What are we doing now?") Chikorita puts in lazily from her chibi sleeping bag, which I'd made specially for her last time we were at home.  
  
"We're going to be training up for the Indigo league in the summer. Oh, and maybe keeping an eye out for a few of the legendary Pokemon." I smile slightly, they all look exactly the same. Part nervous, part excited, part mystified.  
  
"Why?" Brock leans forward, looking towards me. "How do you know that the legendaries even exist? Or where they might be."  
  
"I don't know where they are, but they usually find me. Remember Shamouti Misty?" She nods, frowning again. Probably thinking of Melody. "And New Island?" They all look blank. "No? Pikachu, don't you remember?"  
  
("Uh, no.") She replies, ears twitching in thought. Strange.  
  
"Mewtwo? Mew?" I push.  
  
"Mews are extinct aren't they?" Brock replies.  
  
"Where did you get all that from?" Misty puts in, clearly puzzled. I fall silent, trying to pinpoint the moment. Eventually, I shake my head.  
  
"I don't know really. It was a night just like this, I was staring into the fire. Then, it was like a light had been turned on, and the whole thing shot into my mind. No, it wasn't like deja-vu, or imagined Mist." I add, sensing her about to ask. "It was like you know that you're sixteen, or your name is Misty."  
  
"New Island." Brock chews the name over in his head, trying to find some recognition. "What happened there?"  
  
"Oh, we encountered a Mew clone called Mewtwo intent on creating his own cloned Pokemon army, and using them to free all other Pokemon from their trainers. I led the originals to fight back, and a Mew joined us to fight Mewtwo. The two of us combined managed to persuade Mewtwo to learn the error of his ways." Outrageous as that tale sounds, I decide to not tell them that I'd technically died. They'd probably not believe me, since it'd seem ridiculous, which would discredit everything else I've said.  
  
"Mmmm, wonder why we can't remember. Ah well, it's getting too late for my eyes, so I'm off to bed." Brock yawns, before retreating to his sleeping bag. Chikorita just drags her own sleeping bag to near mine, and lays down too.  
  
("You know, that name does ring a bell. I just wish I knew why.") Pikachu murmurs, paw scratching a buttercup ear absently.  
  
"It'll come back to you, don't worry. Goodnight Pikachu." I give her head a quick rub before she walks over to her custom-made bag. Misty gets up and walks around the fire to sit next to me as the rustling of sleeping bags dies down. She stares into my eyes for a few long seconds before sitting down beside me and lokking away.  
  
"Ash, what's up?" She whispers, casting a sidelong glance in my direction.  
  
"Nothing, really." I keep my eyes fixed on my fire, although I just know that she's now turned to look at me again.  
  
"Yeah, and I'm Snorlax's big sister. Don't lie to me Ash Ketchum." She shuffles a little closer to me, waiting for an answer.  
  
"If I really knew, maybe I could." I can sense her confusion, so I elaborate. "Misty, look into the fire, tell me what you can see." Out of the corner of my eye I see her turn to the fire, and regard it critically for a second. "Well?"  
  
"I see..reds and oranges, dancing flames, flickering shadows.." She looks back at me, and I nod.  
  
"Now let me tell you what I see." I stare hard into the core of the blaze. "I see an infinite number of hues intertwined, I see faces, memories of the past. I see my mother, you, Pikachu, everyone. I see a bird of fire, ice and lightning. Faces past and faces unknown. I sometimes remember things long forgotten or watch what I've never seen. And I don't know how or why." Finished, I look back up to see her smiling at me.  
  
"You know that watching a fire can make you think of the oddest things.."  
  
"No, these aren't figments of my imagination, these are real. I don't know how to describe them properly." I state vehemently, and she looks a little taken aback. "Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to shout at you Misty."  
  
"It's okay Ash." She smiles at me, then casts a thoughtful glance at the fire before looking back to me. "But don't let the fire worry you, I'm sure it's just your mind getting a little overactive." She cajoles, as if I'm a kid having nightmares. But I don't mind, Misty doesn't realise it yet, but any way she speaks to me without shouting or criticising is music to my ears. "Anyhow, I think it's time I hit the sack, so goodnight. Don't be too long, another long day coming tomorrow." She gets to her feet, and slopes off to her sleeping bag, which is subtly close to mine without being obvious. If only she knew that over the last few years I've become a pretty smart cookie, but she still thinks of me as a rather scatty-minded twelve- year-old. I look back into the flames, and try to let myself relax. She's probably right anyway, I can still be like that. Sometimes I do it for a laugh, sometimes I almost lapse back into the preteen me. Maybe I'm a schizophrenic. Well, if that is the case at least I'll never be lonely. I smile wryly to myself, and creep over to my bag to retrieve my journal. I can still remember the mild ribbing I got from everyone when they found out about it, Misty telling me that is was a girlish thing to do, Brock mimicking me writing romantic poetry every night for a week, and worst of all Pikachus high pitched giggling. The only ones who know and don't rib me are mum and Chikorita, although she's desperate to find out what it contains, probably to find out what I think of her. But there's more to it than that, sure I write my feelings, actions and emotions out, and even the occasional piece of poetry (yes, and some of it is love poetry). It's also recording pieces of a puzzle, the puzzle of the things I see from the flames, the voices in the crackle of burning leaves. Failing to see Mistys Aqua eyes glint in the orange glow as she watches me intently, I pull out the pen tucked inside the front cover and start writing.  
  
"Another day gone by, another few more moments in history. Today was a good day, except for Chikorita and Pikachu arguing about who got which shoulder which ended in Chikorita vine whipping Pikachu off, resulting in her trying to shock her back. Unfortunately, I'm not a grass type like Chikorita." I smile at the memory, and the puppy eyes they both gave me when I gave them an ass chewing. "Tonight, I saw more images in the fire, images from Shamouti years ago. And something new." I let my gaze fade out again, trying to pin down exactly what I had seen. "I was there, along with a strange man, my mother, and a wondrous bird, but so indistinct. It could mean nothing, but the bird looked exactly the same as the one I saw on the first day of my journey. Is it just coincidence? But when I tried to explain to Misty what was happening, she only just stopped short of laughing." An expression of pain passes onto my face as the memory of Misty's incredulous look swims into my mind. "Maybe I'm crazy, maybe not. But I still can't explain it.." I sigh, and put my pen back into the journal, and stuff it back in my bag. I glance at my watch as I take off my shirt.. It's taken me half an hour to write that. Where did the time go? I pull off my grey shorts, and climb into my sleeping bag, leaving it part open. I've been feeling really hot recently, despite the fact summer is a way off yet. Slowly, sleep overtakes me, just as the last glowing ember of the fire dies away.  
*I'm high in the air, gazing at the world spread below me like an intricate tapestry. I can feel the wind flow beneath my wings, smell the night air as it rushes past. It's a thrill, a thrill that I've never known before. Riding on Lugia's back was amazing, but being truly in control of yourself and your direction in a seemingly infinite expanse of sky is something unique. To dive, to glide, to soar. I somehow know this is a dream even while it's happening, and I wish that it could last forever. I make it last a while longer, just for the feeling. It's amazing to have your confines removed, the normal laws you have to listen to repealed, even if its just for one night of dreaming. Eventually, feeling my wings tiring, I glide back to the campsite, and darkness overtakes me once more.*  
The sun appears over the horizon, at exactly the same time my eyes open. I blink a few times, my hazel irises adjusting to the light, before sliding out of his sleeping bag and standing up. Something is wrong here, something missing...uh? I hurriedly scout around for some clothes, well, any clothes. I set eyes on my grey shorts, and hurriedly slip them on before glancing around the site to make sure everyone else was still asleep. Whew, I'm glad Misty wasn't awake just then, or anyone else for that matter. But where have my boxers gone? A quick search of the sleeping bag and surrounding area produce my shirt and a few other bits and pieces, but no sign of them. Well, I'm glad that mom always made sure I had plenty of clean you-know- whats.  
  
("Whatcha dooin?") I spin around to see Chikorita gazing up at me, and feel a blush spread over me.  
  
"How long have you been awake?!"  
  
("About five seconds. Looking for something?")  
  
"No, no. Uh, have you seen my boxer shorts?" I blush still further as Chikorita giggles in response.  
  
("Do you say that to all girls just after they've just woken up?") She jibes, smiling further at my reaction.  
  
"Uh, I'd advise you to not breathe a word. I can always forget to make you a custom pair of pyjamas." Her leaf droops in submission, and she looks up at me with soulful eyes, knowing the look works like a charm on me, and as usual it does it's magic. "Okay, okay. But make sure that you don't tell anyone. I don't want any of them winding me up or giving me any of the old jokes. And if Misty so much as giggles at me."  
  
("Alright! I get the idea!") She drags herself out of her sleeping bag and wanders over to my side as I idly scratched my chin in thought.  
  
"Why do you want pyjamas anyhow?"  
  
("I think they look nice, and seem comfortable. Also they keep you warm.") Chikorita replied lightly.  
  
"It's a little unusual to see a Pokemon in human clothes. " I crouched down to her level, and look her in the eye. "Are you sure you want to stick out like that from others?"  
  
("Hey, I like to be noticed.")  
  
"Why?"  
  
("When you've grown up with six brothers, you need to stand out.") She answers calmly.  
  
"Standing out isn't all it's cracked up to be." I let a rueful tone seep into my voice as I stare blindly into the middle distance, engulfed in memory.  
  
("What do you mean by that?") She asks, curiosity apparent in her eyes.  
  
"Ask me some other time." I reply, eyes still glazed. *Preferably never.*  
  
("Uh, okay.") A moan and some rustling sounds from my right signifies Misty is waking up, so I reach for a T-shirt. It's all very well being half-naked around Pokemon, but I'm always too embarrassed around people. Don't know why really, it just feels strange. The world disappears for a moment as the shirt passes over my head, and as it reappears I can see her smiling up at me, so I hurriedly pull it down over my chest and stomach.  
  
"Morning Ash, Chikorita." She yawns, pulling herself out of her bag and slowly stretching in her Horsea-styled blue pyjamas.  
  
"Morning sleepyhead." I reply trying to brush a stray lock of hair out of my eye.  
  
("Yeah, sleep well?") Chikorita adds, walking over to find a brush in my bag.  
  
"Not bad. What time is it?"  
  
"It's uh." I look at my right wrist, to find it without a trace of watch. Not a hint of watchness in sight. Strange. Boxers and watches? Some thief around here has a weird priority list. "I don't know, but judging by the sun and time of year I'd say around forty-seven minutes past eight." She looks at me strangely, and my mind catches up with my mouth. Where the hell did that come from? She bends down to her bag and scoops up her watch. One glance at it, and she looks at me even more strangely.  
  
"You're right. To the minute. How on earth did you know that?"  
  
"Uh, a lucky guess I guess, eh-heheheh." She cocks an eyebrow, and drops the watch back on her bag.  
  
"If that's the case would you care to pick my lottery numbers for next week?" Without waiting for an answer she turns around and bends down to pull a change of clothes out of her bag, and I find myself looking at a rather unexpected sight. Not one that I mind, of course..damn, there I go again. I really, really need to learn some mental control, to stop mister libido wolf- whistling like Brock on heat. Sometimes I hate growing up, it creates so much confusion..but scanning over Mistys lithe, shapely five-and- a-half foot frame, orange hair flowing down over her shoulders as she straightens up, I decide that it does have its benefits. I manage to rip my gaze away from her just before she sees me staring, only for it to centre on a sniggering Brock who just happened to see me giving her the once over and is, needless to say, in a mood for blackmail. Oh man, am I going to get it from one of them this morning. I can hear Pikachu sniggering from behind me as well, the day gets better and better. I've lost a pair of boxers which Chikorita knows about, and Pikachu and Brock have got an eyeful of me getting an eyeful of Misty. I'm glad Todd isn't here, any photographs and I could be looking at a life sentence. Now Brock is getting out of his sleeping bag with a calculating look, and I just know that I'm going to be getting the wood for the fire this morning. And the water. And the berries.  
I watch Ash walk off into the undergrowth, bowl in his hands, and hear Pikachu sniggering behind me. I think I've missed something. Normally Ash never gets the water without a fight, which usually results in a shocking or possibly a bit of hammer time courtesy of me. I spin around to Pikachu, intent on catching her by surprise. "And what's so funny?"  
  
("Uh, nothin'") She stutters, turning on her innocent look. It's not going to work on me.  
  
"You must find nothing awfully funny." I snap, edging closer.  
  
("Yeah, right.") She's looking uncomfortable as I tower over her. She has no problem with shocking Ash if she wants to, but she never tried it on with me. It's beyond me why not.  
  
"Were you laughing at me? You were weren't you?!" Oh, am I good at this. She's looking desperate now.  
  
("No! I was laughing at Ash.") Ah, what has he done then? It had to be blackmail for him to willingly go and collect the water, or for Pikachu to be laughing at him.  
  
"Why? What did he do?!" I whip the mallet out of nowhere, and wave it at her. She squeals in surprise, and pelts across the clearing to Brock, who is still sat in his sleeping clothes, me on her tail. I pull up a foot short, and glower at the two of them.  
  
"Come on Casanova, what's the deal with Ash?"  
  
"uh.deal? What deal?" This is going to be easy, it's a well known fact that Brock, although a great breakfast cook, needs a breakfast to get the thinking part of his brain into first gear. Right about now, the starter motor isn't even on.  
  
"The deal which means he has to get the water. And the one which Pikachu finds incredibly funny, too funny to tell me." He flounders like a caught Magikarp, eyes on my mallet.  
  
"Uh, uh, he made a joke about you and we threatened to tell you if he didn't!" Yeah, right. Ash hasn't been out of earshot from me since eight last night, and they would've sniggered then if he had told them the joke beforehand.  
  
"Okay then slick, what was the joke?" Another Magikarp impression, this time Pikachu jumps in.  
  
("He said what's the difference between Misty and a Muk - he'd sleep with a Muk.") Ooooh, that was below the belt Pikachu. That could be getting him in more trouble with me than whatever they're hiding.  
  
"He.said..what?" I put an overload of pissed-off tone into my voice, and see Pikachu quail. She knows that if Ash finds out what she just said there'll be more than hell to pay, especially if I really gave him a proper going over.  
  
("Uh..(Brock, help!)") She whispers frantically.  
  
"(What can I do?)"  
  
("(Think of something!)") It's all I can do to avoid cracking up as, after frantic whispering, Brock puts on a feeble smile and attempts to meet my eye.  
  
"Uh, I woke up and saw him checking you out while you were pulling your change of clothes out of the bag." Pikachu slaps her head and sweatdrops, and I know he's telling the truth. Then the truth seems to smack me on the cheeks, turning them both bright red. To distract them from this I go back on the offensive. One swift swish of my mallet, and Brock is seeing stars.  
  
"That's for lying to me." Another swish, and Pikachu has pidgeys circling her head. "And that's for the joke, which I didn't find particularly funny." I re-pocket the mallet as a distant rustling heralds Ash's return, and move to pick up my clothes again. A few seconds later he crashes through a bush, and re-enters the clearing carrying a bowl almost overflowing with water. He sees me staring at him, and reddens slightly. Yeah, Brock was telling me the truth alright. He sets the bowl down, spins on his heel and heads towards the trees again. "And where do you think you're going?" He freezes on the spot.  
  
"To get firewood. And some berries for breakfast, if I can find them." I see him clench his fist as he mentions berries, he always gets designated to pick them because he'll usually be the easiest one to persuade (or threaten) but I can see the scratches on his arms and hands from here. It's not surprising really, the berries are mostly eaten by Pokemon, as the long thorns which surround them are not fun for anyone without fur or leathery skin.  
  
"Don't worry, I'm sure Pikachu and Brock will go and get everything, won't you?"  
  
"Uh, maybe." the mumbled reply.  
  
"Pardon?!" A single cocked eyebrow is enough to suggest to them an infinite amount of tortures which will possibly be experienced if they don't move their backsides pronto.  
  
"Uh, yes! Straight away ma'am!" Brock almost salutes as he rushes off, Pikachu in tow.  
  
"How did you get them to do that?" Ash asks, idly ambling back to his sleeping place, and bending to stroke Chikorita.  
  
"Just a little persuasion.." I whip out the mallet again, and blow some imaginary dust from its head before pocketing it again.  
  
"Should've guessed." He bends down to rummage in his bag. "Anyhow, I'm going to go change now.." Um, wasn't he already changed when I woke up?  
  
"You've already changed." I fold my arms, looking him up and down. "You look fine to me.." I then see what he's concealing, well trying to, in his hands. "Ah, I see. Don't worry Ash, it happens to all of us sometime." He looks thunderstruck, and I can't help laughing, especially when Chikorita starts screaming with laughter beside him.  
  
"Uh, no, nothing like that has happened. At all." I calm down just enough to snigger a question.  
  
"Well what is it then?"  
  
"Uh, I kinda woke up this morning and they'd gone.." I sink to my knees, eyes blurring with tears of mirth. " I guess I could've put that better." He mumbles, face turning red as a cherry, wringing the pair of boxers in his hands.  
  
("Aaah-haahaahaaaaa!") Chikorita pounds the earth with her front paws as he makes his rather embarrassed way out of the campsite to change. Eventually we sober up, and I begin to feel a little sheepish.  
  
"I wish I hadn't done that. He's been really embarrassed about things of a...personal nature for years, especially recently."  
  
("I don't know why. He's got no problems around Pokemon, but he won't let any human see him without a shirt on recently, let alone anything less. Odd isn't it?") We both think for a moment in silence.  
  
"But he's been complaining about the heat. It's only early to mid spring. And yet still he insists in covering up. He's always been quite modest, but recently it's been extreme, he's even more secretive than me. Girls are usually more private, but he breaks the mould." I think for another moment, and then continue. "It's ever since he got that diary, and got this fascination with fire. He's changed subtly in other ways too." She nods in agreement.  
  
("He's less argumentative, more withdrawn. Also, when training he's gotten very quick reflexes, and become more agile. Odd.") He chooses that moment to walk back into the campsite, still with a cherry-like complexion. I get up from my kneeling position, and smile at him.  
  
"Feeling fully dressed now? Sure you're not going to go and lose yourself again?" It's evil I know, but I can't help it.  
  
"Uh, yeah."  
  
"Okay, I'm going to go change now." I walk over to the nearest big tree, and step behind it. I know it's wrong to wind him up more, but I can't help it..I poke my head out from beside the tree, and with a coy wink, call over to him "and no peeking!" I didn't think it humanly possible to go any redder, but he does. I hurriedly strip off my pyjamas and slip on my usual attire for the last few weeks, a sky-blue skinny-rib top and denim shorts, before tying my hair back in a ponytail which falls down the back of my neck. I admit I've been doing this to get a certain friend to notice me a little more, and from what I've ascertained it's working. Well, he does blush a lot. I pace back out to see him deep in quiet conversation with Chikorita, and I move over to my bag to put my stuff away. I can just pick out a few words he's saying.  
  
"Green..no, not silk that's too pricey, besides cotton is more suitable..yeah, silk can be too hot..yellow trim, yeah that'll go with...leaves or flowers..both? Okay, I'll alternate.."  
  
"Hey Ash, it sounds like you're planning a garden show over there!" He looks up at me, and frowns.  
  
("Actually, Ash is going to ma.")  
  
"Buy her a pair of pyjamas, and she's telling me what she'd like." He turns to face me, running fingers through his hair. "After I.got her that sleeping bag she's liked the idea of pyjamas." I look over the sleeping bag, it sure is cute. Pale green, with a patterned leaf motif.  
  
"It's really nice. Hey, do you think you could get me the number of whoever makes them, so I can get one for Togepi?" He scratches his head, and Chikorita looks up at him with mild concern.  
  
"Uh, he asked that I keep it under wraps. He can only make one thing at a time, and I promised that I wouldn't tell anyone else who it is. And sorry, but that includes you, I keep my promises."  
  
"But Aaaa-aaaash!" Normally if I complain enough I can get my way with him, but I can see it's no sale this time.  
  
"No, sorry. But if you give me Togepis rough measurements I can get him one." I relent, and nod. "Okay, I'll send him the details with those for Chikoritas pyjamas."  
  
"Mind if I ask why you want pyjamas?" Chikorita looks up at me with a smile.  
  
("They look nice, and feel nice.") I'm curious. How does she know how they feel?  
  
"Have you worn any before?"  
  
("No, but Ash wraps his around me on cold nights, and they feel pretty comfy then") I notice Ash is blushing again.  
  
"Awwww, that's so sweet!" I croon, pushing his embarrassment to boiling point for the third time in ten minutes. I don't know why, but I just love doing this.  
  
"Anything for my Pokemon." He brushes it away, and moves back to his things. "Now, I'm going to get packed up before Brock and Pikachu can get back, so once breakfast is done we can help them sort out their things and move out. Then we might just get to the next town by nightfall." Makes sense.  
  
"Okay, let's get set. Betcha I can pack up before you!"  
  
"You're on!"  
  
("Twice!") Chikorita adds, scurrying to her own things. It's fun to have a little childish competition with Ash, especially if it leads to one of out trademark arguments. I begin stuffing my sleeping bag into it's container..  
  
"Done!" I shoot upright and spin around. He's not joking either, he's packed up and ready to go. In under ten seconds. I notice Chikorita looking completely gobsmacked, her sleeping bag half-rolled.  
  
("How in the name of Lugia...") He nervously rubs the back of his head, looking like he doesn't really know either.  
  
"I-I guess practice makes perfect!" I look him in the eye, and see that he's more than a little confused.  
  
"Yeah, that's right. But what you make is about thirty seconds below it. Well, since you're such an expert, would you care to help me with mine?" He smiles nervously, and picks up my pyjama trousers, folding them up neatly. "Since when did you become civilised?" I jibe gently.  
  
"Since it occurred to me that you can't be ten for over six years." He's right, he certainly doesn't look ten any more. For a second I let my eyes rove hungrily across him, and at six-one, there's a lot. He doesn't seem to realise it, but he's become hot property among the entire female population of, well, the world. A tall guy, getting pretty muscular too, his black hair now kept in some semblance of style, swept back and across, and tied back. Also a massively popular and respected trainer, especially since the incident in the last championship final. An incident which he still is unable to get over. And it isn't the fact he lost, it was what happened in that match...and this guy, most eligible bachelor in Kanto and Johto put together is the same one that was checking me out this morning.  
  
"Uh, Misty." I suddenly realise that he's standing in front of me, holding my pyjamas in his hands.  
  
"...Yes?"  
  
"Do you want to put these away?" He holds out the clothes to me.  
  
"Why don't you?" He looks at me with nervousness etched on his face.  
  
"Because normally you won't let any guy within six feet of it."  
  
"Hey, it's no problem, you can put them away for me. Just don't go looking at my diary okay? Oh, or my lingerie." Chikorita is right, that line would have catastrophic effects on the average teenage guy, but he just looks horribly embarrassed. He opens the top flap, and puts them gently inside, before zipping it shut again. "Oh, and open my front pocket, and pass me my deodorant." He complies, flipping the can to me. I take off the top and spray myself over, sticking one arm into my top to get to my chest and back, before tossing it back to him.  
  
"Can I borrow some of this?" I'll admit that took me by surprise.  
  
"Sure, but isn't it a little feminine for you?" He pops the cap off, and smiles slightly.  
  
"Nah, I kinda like it myself. It always smelt good on you, and I think that means it'll smell good on me too." .....Erm..... Now you could knock me down with a feather. I never ever thought he'd say that.  
  
"Thanks." He looks at me a little awkwardly, before hurriedly lifting up his shirt to spray his stomach, dropping it quickly again afterwards. He puts the top back on, and drops it into the side pocket. "now if you'll excuse me, I've got a little business to which I must attend." He paces off into the bush on one side, as I can hear Brock approaching from the other.  
  
("Am I being paranoid, or was Ash being really, really weird just then?") Chikorita eyes me with concern, and I nod back.  
  
"Yeah, but keep it under wraps. We want to work out what's up before we go telling the world. And that includes the other two."  
  
("You got it. I don't want to put my pyjamas in jeopardy.") She chuckles, using her vines to tie up her little bag and lever it into Ash's backpack.  
  
"No wonder he's getting so muscular, anyone would have big shoulders after carrying around yours and Pikachus stuff for ages." I suddenly realise I've said this aloud, and my eyes flick back down to her, seeing a wry smile on her lips. "Maybe it'd be better if you didn't tell him I told you that..."  
Thank goodness, I never thought I'd be so glad to see civilisation. Now, at last I get to have a little time to myself. Looking at Ash's face, below the yellow glow of the streetlights, he mirrors my sentiments exactly. Although for different reasons, He's got something up, and I don't know what it is. As for me, well, I'm glad to get the chance to flirt a little. I'm feeling like more and more of a third wheel recently, it's obvious that they only have eyes for each other, Misty and Ash. They don't argue like they used to any more, at least then I could use a few snide remarks to let off some steam at being the odd one out. They fight now and then, although it's now more of an in-joke. Which makes it less fun for me watching. Also Ash has become almost completely passive over the last few months, which disturbs me to say the least. The incident at the Indigo plateau has had an effect, that's for sure.  
  
"D'you think they have a shopping centre?" Misty looks like she's champing at the bit.  
  
"Not at nine in the night." Her face falls in response.  
  
"Yeah, true." But her eyes light up again as we walk through the town. This place seems to have more shoe shops than Paris, more boutiques than New York. It's about now I'm delighted Ash gave us the hurry-up, and we got here this evening rather than tomorrow morning, at least I'll have a good night's sleep in a proper bed before facing Misty with a credit card and a calculating expression. Ever since she came into some money, which she says was from some distant aunt who died and split her finances between her living relatives. She made sure she waved it in Ash's face, who didn't seem to mind. In fact, he almost looked delighted.  
  
"I can't wait to fall onto a bed which actually has springs." He zones out, expression unfocused. He really has been worrying me recently.  
  
("We call the shower!") Pikachu and Chikorita high-five over his head, pleased to bag it first.  
  
"Second!" Ah, damn it, too slow. That was Misty, which means that I'm going to be waiting a loooong time. I glance at Ash, who still seems oblivious. Well, I might as well complete the ritual.  
  
"Third!" I wait for response. None forthcoming. If I can't wind him up.. "And you three, make sure you clean out the hair from the shower before I get there okay?"  
  
"Brock!!" Misty yells, almost seeming to swell in size.  
  
"Let's look at this sensibly shall we? You..." I point to her "...shave your armpits every single time we get to a room and never, ever get rid of the result. And you two..." I look at Chikorita and Pikachu "...are furry and tend to moult when you get soaking wet. So don't leave me cleaning it out, okay?!" They look a little taken aback, and I chuckle. Maybe I should try being evil Brock more often. We go back to walking in silence, gazing in shop windows. Something is wrong about this whole scenario. Then it clicks. "Hey Pikachu, doesn't something seem wrong right about now?" I call to her, on the other side of Ash's head.  
  
("Uh, dunno. What are you thinking is wrong?")  
  
"Well, where are we?" She still looks puzzled.  
  
("Just coming into Morston city.") She pokes her head out so she can see me, and I shoot her a sly grin.  
  
"So we're coming into a new city. Doesn't it seem unusually quiet?"  
  
("Yeah, it is late evening.")  
  
"But doesn't it seem rather quiet around us in particular?" I see a tiny smile break on her lips, she gets it too. Chikorita, on the shoulder nearest to me, starts to grin.  
  
("Yes, it does.")  
  
("Then why don't we make it more like it usually is?") Chikorita suggests, now wearing a slightly snide smile.  
  
("On three?") Pikachu calls across from the seemingly still oblivious Ash's right shoulder.  
  
("One.") Chikorita sticks a vine in the air.  
  
("Two.") Pikachu raises a hand.  
  
"And.Three!" Instantly we start doing spirited over-excited Ash impressions.  
  
"I wonder where the gym is!" (Me)  
  
("We'll beat them easy right Pikachu?!") (Pikachu)  
  
("Pika!") (Chikorita).  
  
"I can't wait to get a new badge!"  
  
("Where's the food?!") Pikachu chirrups, giggling madly.  
  
"Where's the bed?" I can't help it, I'm really getting into this.  
  
("Food in bed? Gimmie!") Chikorita again.  
  
"Are you the gym leader? Let's battle!" I squeak, pretending to turn an imaginary cap backwards and throw a pokeball.  
  
("Yeah! I got a..")  
  
"SHUT UP!" Misty nearly blows Pikachu of Ash's shoulder and me into a wall. She just about recovers her balance at around the same time Misty has enough breath to let off a full tirade.  
  
"That was uncalled for! Uncalled for and heartless! If it was me you were insulting you'd be breathing through tubes for a month!" She shoots a look up at Ash, who is breaking the world record for the blankest stare in history, but obviously sees something there because she goes nuclear on us again. "I would tell you to apologise right about now but it's his choice if he wants you to, not mine. But if you ever go off at him like that again..." She breaks off, chest heaving for breath, but makes her point clear by giving us a venomous look which could make Chikoritas leaf wither in the space of a second. Any other conversation is broken off by Ash redoubling his pace without a moment's warning, and we have to jog to catch up with him. I can't quite see Mistys problem, it was only a little joke after all, wasn't it? The easiest way to hit a nerve with Misty is to involve Ash, whether you criticise him where she jumps to his defence, or if you praise him where she replies with snide put-downs. And god help whoever insinuates that their relationship is anything more than good friends...I can see the Pokemon centre up ahead, and feel a sudden urge to get inside as soon as possible. Anything is better than walking with one friend not responding to a word you say and the other ready to set alight to your trousers. After too long just walking towards the sign we eventually reach the automatic doors, which swish open as if to welcome us and usher us in. Joy looks up from the desk, and for a moment the pink mist descends until Misty catches my eye. Not tonight Brock, not tonight.  
  
"How can I help you?" She looks up at us in that well practised manner, and I have to bite my lip to keep my feet on the ground.  
  
"Uh, we'd like a room for four please!" She glances around, and frowns at us.  
  
"Four? There's only three of you..."  
  
("There's FIVE of us in case you didn't notice!") Chikorita scowls from Ash's shoulder. Joy looks at her in confusion so I translate, minus the indignation.  
  
"Ah, I see. Now, what do we have?" A few keys tapped, head bent over the laptop on the desk. "Hmmm, the biggest we've got is a three, we've got a two, and two one bed rooms. The one bed rooms have no shower though."  
  
"I'll take a single, you three go for the big room." Ash's voice makes me jump, since he's been silent for quite a while. It sounds wrong, somehow forced.  
  
"But won't you..." Misty began, only to be cut off.  
  
"No, it's fine. Honestly, leave the doubles for those that need them." He keeps his eyes to the floor, which is worrying. He never fails to look life in the eye.  
  
("At least let me come in with you.") Pikachu begs, clinging onto his head tightly.  
  
"Sorry Pikachu, but you should go with the others, else you won't be able to have a shower. Honestly." Joy drops the key onto the desk, and after depositing Pikachu and Chikorita onto the floor he wordlessly picks it up and moves towards the rooms on the other side of the building.  
  
"Is your friend alright? He seems awfully...under the weather." Joy looks back at us, frowning.  
  
"I wish I knew, I really do." Misty sighs resignedly. I wish I did too, but I can't do anything about him right now. She drops the keys on the table, and we head off to our room, next door to Ash. I can't help feeling that a single wall isn't going to be enough for him to get the peace he wants tonight.  
The pen scratches frantically across the paper, babbling brook-like with words I'm afraid to say.  
  
"It's happening again. My emotions are a blur, thoughts a mess. I'm growing again, growing in the wrong places. Its like my body doesn't know what to do either. What's going on? I don't understand, don't understand what's happening. Don't understand why I feel the need to cry. It's like going through puberty in a few moments, but different. I'm beginning to look..different. Why? It happened a few times in the past but never for more than a few days. Why is it different? More prolonged? Is there a change coming? I wish someone could answer me, right now I'm just scared and alone. I never understood what hormones were but they could never work as fast as this, and in the wrong way. I can't tell anyone, I can't go to anyone. I'm alone this time, and helpless."  
  
I snap closed my journal, letting a few tears drip onto the cover. I can't look at the mirror, I can't. It's hanging there, taunting me, begging me to look up. But I know what I'll see, I'll see me changing. I know there are diseases and syndromes which cause this, but never so rapid or drastic. I can't comprehend what's going on, or why. But I'm becoming less and less like Ash. I'm still technically me but..it's hopeless. My eyes flick up, unbidden, just to take in my reflection again. I'm changing shape, changing figure. It's almost as if I'm evolving, whether the by-product of some incident past, I have no idea. I can't even go and get a shower, I have to figure out some way of concealing my body but not my face until I work out what the hell to do. At least I haven't got a tail...But the way things are going that's scant comfort. It's going to be a long night...  
  
The next chapter will be up in the next week or so, if you feel inclined to keep reading! Don't forget to leave any comments you want! Dan A.K.A. Silent Sigh 


	2. ...Until you know too much

Here it is, Chapter two. My longest to date, around 10,000 words. One day, I'm going to get a life. Mind you, they're not all they're cracked up to be, so I hear.  
  
This story has been inspired a lot by Dragoness's tales (especially One Heart) and I can't post this without giving her due credit for the influence, and I suggest if you haven't read One Heart DO IT NOW! Anyhow, enough of my rantings, might as well get on with the story.  
  
You all know the drill, please R&R! Comments, constructive criticism (like BigRed – thanks for the suggestions you've always given me) and flames all accepted, although not all of the previous enjoyed. Come on, if you've had the time to read this, I'm sure you've got time to leave a brief comment. Please? Pretty please? Maybe bribery? Ah, now I see eyes light up.  
  
Disclaimer: I own none of the Characters in this story, although the location is mine, and the pyjama design is patent. Pend. All other things belong to the owners and proprietors of Pokemon.  
  
Child of the Light One – Chapter II.  
  
  
  
: Now it is clear to me. I have unwillingly brought untold stress and confusion onto him, and those around him. Him, if only I had taken notice of that little word, it would have made life ever so slightly easier. He will have enough to go through from now, without that. But I was lonely and naïve, I wanted a daughter to be with me, to carry on after me in the future. I cannot repeal the sentence I bestowed, so still longer I must wait….:  
  
  
  
The hardest thing to believe is that this is happening to me. Anyone in the world could be suffering right now, but it always falls in the lap of the chosen one. I look up again, into the mirror. Facially I look the same, or it could just appear that way having stared at myself for hours in the darkness, and now finally the first suggestion of the dawn. My hands move unbidden to my chest, as if to manually check the evidence. I bite my lip, praying to god that there is some trick of the eye or the mirror, but no. I do have…breasts developing on my chest. There, I've said it. How? I am, and always have been a man. But things have slowly been changing for months, ever since the fire began showing me images, stories past. I've lost my impetuous streak, a lot of my brash side. I have become more emotional but simultaneously more withdrawn. Just the other day Pikachu asked me if I was feeling my normal self, and of course I laughed it off. But she's right, I've been feeling completely wrong. Or maybe my "normal self" has changed. I still think of these moments as "morphs" – they're too strange and sudden to be progressive – but something else is progressing quietly where I can't see it. It's been nagging at me all night, for oh about nine hours. I can hardly remember half-listening to the unusually subdued evening sounds before they all go to bed through the plywood party wall. First Misty giving them a bollocking for being "cruel and insensitive" to me, then the inevitable showering sounds, and Brock screaming "What did I tell you about cleaning the shower?!" and then very little. Normally the bubbling of normal conversation would run on for hours, but it all went quiet by ten. They must have gone to sleep. Something in my head tells me, with utmost certainty, that Misty was up for two hours, just listening for any noise from me. I guess I must have disappointed her, my screams, tears and cries have all been silent, the only noise the endless scritching of frenzied writing. I wonder if she heard that? My mind jumps back to my current situation, and the memories of last night. Brock, Pikachu and Chikorita giggling madly, teasing and smirking. Maybe if that's all Ash the teenage guy is to them, I should become someone else. I've even thought of running tonight, leaving and hiding away. But Ash Ketchum is not a quitter, ever. Whether he's himself or not. I would never leave my Pikachu, Chikorita or any of the others behind if it weren't what they wanted. I would never leave my friends without a full and reasoned explanation. I'll never use anyone or anything like Gary, and I'll never do what…she did. That poor excuse for a human I fought that day on the Indigo Plateau. Six months, that's all it has been, since that day…  
  
  
  
*And here we are, at the end of a full six-on-six matchup for the Pokemon league title and the right to battle the elite four. Green trainer Ayla Marino has two Pokemon left, red trainer Ash Ketchum three. Ash Ketchums Cyndaquil is out there and looking fit and ready, so who will Ayla choose next? I lock eyes with her from across the arena, and can see the concern. I know, and she knows that she's only got one choice against my fire type, a choice that will be whipped soundly by Pikachu or Chikorita stood proudly beside me. And following that, her last chance….  
  
"Go, Wartortle!" The red light dissipates to reveal a mean-looking turtle, and I nod. Yes, this is how it was going to go. I call out to Cyndaquil.  
  
"Hang in there, And do what you can!" He turns, and nods.  
  
("You got it!")  
  
"Wartortle, water gun!"  
  
"Dodge it!" The jet of water passed through exactly the spot he'd stood a split-second before.  
  
"Great going, Cyndaquil! Now, just keep that up as long as you can." He nods in response, and for the next few minutes the game of cat and mouse continues, with Ayla getting more and more annoyed at every dodged shot, until Cyndaquil and Wartortle look exhausted.  
  
"Can you dodge any more of those?" I call out. He looks back, face set in determination.  
  
("I'm sure as hell gonna try!") The next water gun flies towards him, and he dives to the right, but gets clipped by the beam of water which sends him rolling through the dust.  
  
"You want to come back?" I whip out the Pokeball readily.  
  
("Give me…one shot at…this overgrown tortoise!") He drags himself to his feet, and powers up.  
  
"More! Hit it again!" Ayla screams, and the tired Wartortle responds, sending another water shot at Cyndaquil, this time striking full on.  
  
("Eat this!") Cyndaquil spun desperately out of the stream, and launched a fire blast before slumping down. The exhausted Wartortle could only draw its head into its shell as the attack struck, sending it tumbling end-over- end into her trainer box.  
  
"Superb Cyndaquil, return." I wink to him and he winks back from the floor as he is sucked into his ball. Lifting my gaze, I see Wartortle, its normally gleaming shell blackened and smoking, struggling to move. Cyndaquil had put every ounce of his fire into that last attack, and it had done massive damage. The next few minutes would stay with me forever…*  
  
  
  
I shook the line of thought from my mind, not wanting to remember any more. I felt the sudden urge to get a hot drink, some comfort from my thoughts and the darkness. Dropping the open diary clasped in my hand onto the bed, I put my now ill-fitting pyjamas on, tighter around the chest and looser around the shoulders and examine them. They are dark blue, and quite loose, so unless someone looks closely they probably won't notice. Then, I pace over to the door. I hesitate for a second as I put my hand on the handle, but reason that I haven't heard anyone moving for hours, and it isn't five AM yet. Cautiously, I open the door, and after stepping through it shut it silently. The centre is deathly silent, not a soul awake. I pad down the corridor to the common room provided by the centre, with bathrooms, sofas and a kettle for making hot drinks. Hell, maybe even a television. I stop outside the door, just listening again for a second. I know from experience that these rooms can be popular make-out spots for pairs of trainers who normally are part of a group and want a little privacy, but again I hear nothing. Breathing a sigh of relief, I open the door and click the light on. It illuminates a few battered old sofas, a door marked toilet, and a sink unit and fridge with a red kettle perched on it. I fill it and turn it on, and cast an eye over the drinks on offer. So, tea? Coffee? Mmmm, hot chocolate. I put a few heaped spoonfuls of the powder into the cup and add one for luck, and begin scouting for some milk in the fridge. Miracles will never cease, a bottle that hasn't curdled up yet! I put it on the unit and look for a cup that doesn't look like someone has half-filled it with mud. I finally find one (with a mildly indecent joke on it, but I've never known that to make the drink taste different) and wait for the kettle to boil, still nervously listening out for noise or movement. Eventually the thing is ready, and I pour out the steaming water, followed by a little milk, and stir the cup thoroughly. Sinking down onto one of the sofas, I take a sip slowly and smile at the taste. Hot chocolate is one of my biggest vices, and I don't have it often so that it is extra good when I do. It's one of my little secrets that it can usually put me to sleep quicker than a lullaby, relax me like a hot bath. I've nearly let more slip under the influence of the drink than with anything else. I let my mind sink into a comforting state of limbo, just letting time pass while I sip idly. I could sleep now, sink into a mattress of clouds and drift until morning comes. I don't want to, the threat of being caught is too great, but my eyes begin closing nonetheless, the gravity of a wakeful night weighing heavy on them. They slip closed….and slam open at the sound of a cough. I spin around, praying to god that it isn't Misty. In this state I don't think I could fight off those aqua eyes. It's not, but it's almost as bad. Brock looks over at me, leaning casually on the doorframe.  
  
"Can't sleep?" I nearly panic, but come to my senses. The only way not to evoke suspicion is to act normal.  
  
"Nah." My voice tremors a little, but he doesn't seem to notice. He walks across to the still hot kettle, and pops a teabag into a cup.  
  
"Yeah, Misty is talking in her sleep, and Chikorita is snoring. I thought a hot drink might settle me a little." He glances over at me, and I draw my knees up to my chest. "What's your poison?"  
  
"Oh, uh…." I glance down at my almost empty cup. "Hot chocolate."  
  
"You want another?" I think for a moment about saying no, but my taste buds say yes, and who am I to argue?  
  
"Yeah, that'd be good." He measures out the recommended dosage with practised speed. "Hang on a minute there cowboy, top that up a little would ya?" Without acknowledging my call, he wordlessly shovels another two spoonfuls into the cup before reaching for the milk. I let my mind drift out again as he finishes concocting the drinks, and pours out the hot water.  
  
"Here you go!" I look up, and he's right in front of me holding out my drink.  
  
"T-thanks." I feel nerves build up again as he plops himself down on the chair across from me, and sticks his feet on the table. He leans back, and looks over at me. My mind screams for me to get out, but the legs aren't listening.  
  
"Sorry about last night, I didn't think you'd take it so hard." I shrug, unable to meet his gaze.  
  
"Ah, don't worry. I was just being over-sensitive." I just know his look has become calculating.  
  
"Yeah, right." His voice is so dry you could use it as a towel. "I can't read you like I used to, but it's obvious that you were upset."  
  
"It was nothing." His now apologetic tone is wearing me down, I can feel it.  
  
"Ash, it obviously did something since you were so upset."  
  
"It was something else." Damn my mouth, damn the hot chocolate. I can hear the chair creak as he leans forwards in it, and I know I've let myself in for it now.  
  
"Something else? Like what, are you ill?" He leans across and places a hand on my forehead.  
  
"Uh, yeah! I wasn't feeling myself yesterday." Not to mention I was becoming someone else of course…  
  
"You do feel hot." He looks me up and down closely, and something inside me snaps. Before he can blink, I'm up off the chair and on my way to the door. "Well obviously, you're a little more than a little hot." He calls across the room as I hurry through the door. I don't care, I just want to get out, get back to my sanctuary. I hurry down the corridor, get to the end and reach my door. I pull the handle…it doesn't move. I try again, then automatically reach for my keycard….which is in my shorts, in the room.  
  
"Shit!" I bang the door, shove it again, but no joy.  
  
"Ash, calm down!" He skids out of the common room and hurtles towards me.  
  
"No Brock, leave me alone!" I shove the door again, and hear a loud curse come from the other room. Mistys awake….Brock puts his arms around my waist and pulls me off the door handle, and lifts me up…and yells in pain as he drops me, nursing his hands. I hesitate and turn to see what happened, but my mind screams for me to run. I dash past Brocks room as Misty pops her head out with a squeak of surprise, and hurtle back into the common room, and vault the sofa, heading for the male bathroom.  
  
"Pikachu, shock him!" Mistys voice rings through my ears as I shove the door open, and I hear the electric charge thud into it as I slam it shut. I turn the lock, and retreat backwards until I reach the wall, still staring at the inside of the door. Then it hits me, what I've just done, and my legs sag, back sliding down the cream-tiled wall. They must think I'm crazy. They'll never give me any peace, leave me alone until they find out. I pull my knees up to my chin and bury my face in them. My only wish is for a hole to swallow me up right now, take me away, leave me by myself for all eternity.  
  
  
  
A loud banging stirs me to consciousness, and I look up in surprise. Surprise mirrored perfectly by Pikachu on the bed beside me, and Misty sleeping nearest the door. Then…."Ash, calm down!" Pikachu springs to her feet. "No Brock, leave me alone!" Another bang from the corridor, and sounds of a scuffle.  
  
"What the hell?!" Misty shoots out of bed, in time to hear Brock cry out in pain. Pikachu blurs across the room as Misty yanks open the door, and nearly spins back in as someone flies past. In the blink of an eye she's out of the room, followed by Pikachu. I grab the room key with a vine, and scuttle out after them. The first thing I see is Brock looking in shock at his hands, which are bright red, and then from my right Misty shouting "Pikachu shock him!" Followed by a slam and a dull thud. I run over to Brock, and begin examining his hands, which look raw and scorched.  
  
("What the hell happened to you?") He shakes his head, brown hair in disarray.  
  
"I-I dunno. Ash was going crazy so I picked him up to stop him breaking the door down, and my hands seemed to start burning." He looks shocked, and I don't blame him. How could he have been burned by Ash? And why was he going crazy in the first place?  
  
("Are you okay for a second? I'm going to see what Misty and Pikachu are doing.")  
  
"I'll come with you." He puts his hand to the floor to push himself up, but stops instantly, wincing and biting his lip. I wind my vines around him, and gently set him on his feet. He smiles at me with unspoken thanks, and we walk down the corridor into the common room, to see Misty and Pikachu pushing on the bathroom door.  
  
("What's up?") Pikachu looks over to me, and shakes her head.  
  
("He's locked himself in the bathroom.") Misty steps back, eyes flashing dangerously.  
  
"Ash Ketchum, if you don't step outside this moment, I'll…..I'll…." She falters, looking a little foolish. There isn't a lot she can do if he doesn't come out.  
  
"Misty, leave him be." Brock steps in and lays a hand on her shoulder, fighting off the urge to wince. She looks at the door for a few moments longer before sagging and looking at the floor.  
  
"Yeah, okay Brock." She mumbles, turning away from the door and heading for one of the sofas.  
  
("Ash, come out when you're ready!") I call, in the hope it'll calm him down. He'll know we're not pressurising him, but that we're there nonetheless. Pikachu, meanwhile is studying Brocks hands closely.  
  
("These are just like the scorches I've had after receiving a flamethrower attack. How the hell could Ash have done that to you?")  
  
"I'm just as puzzled as you are." He replies, thrusting his hands under the cold tap and trying not to scream as the water washes over them. "Jesus, this hurts more than the burns do by themselves!"  
  
"Ash…." I run over to Misty, who looks utterly lost. "What are you doing? You're scared of us! Of me!"  
  
("Hey!") I push in, trying to stop her over-reacting. ("Whatever Ash is scared of, it's not us. It's almost like he was trying to run away from himself.") I pat her on the back as her shoulders slump further, drawing herself into a cocoon of negativity.  
  
"I don't get it, not at all." Brock is still shaking his head, hand still beneath the stream of cold water. "But I know we're not going to get whatever it is from him."  
  
("I'll go and get you some burn cream. Ash keeps some in his bag just in case.") She jumps down from the sink, but Brocks call stops her.  
  
"He's locked himself out. That's why he isn't in that room right now. He didn't take the keycard with him, so when the door auto-locked he couldn't get back in." Pikachu stops, shaking her head.  
  
("Today's getting better and better ain't it.") She kicked the side of the sofa in annoyance. ("Ooooooowwww! Ow, ow, ow! Bastard sofa!") She hopped onto the arm and began nursing her injured foot.  
  
("You said it, it gets better and better.") My dry joke brings a scowl from Pikachu and a choking laugh from Misty, which I'm glad of. She seems to be coming round from the shock a little.  
  
"Guys, you know that the doors are auto lock…" Brock begins.  
  
("I got the key.") I extend a vine to him, and drop it beside the sink. ("Good thing someone here is up to speed this morning!") Pikachu doesn't seem to appreciate my comment, and I smile sweetly at her just to aggravate her a little more.  
  
"I think I've got some burn cream somewhere. It's for Pokemon, but a burn is a burn." Misty pulls herself out of her slumped position, and walks over to Brock. "Come on, let's go and get that seen to." She picks up the keycard, before turning to Pikachu and myself. "Can one of you guys stay here and keep an eye over Ash?" I look up at her, and nod.  
  
("I'll do it. You guys go get yourselves sorted out, and finish your night's sleep.") Pikachu looks about to argue, but Misty nods in agreement.  
  
"Yes. I need you Pikachu to try and work out what's up with him from a Pokemon point of view, you've known him longer." She isn't happy with this, I can see it in her eyes, but she agrees.  
  
("Okay, fine.") She turns to me. ("Now you keep good care of him if he comes out.") I meet her stare, and nod once.  
  
("I'll never let him down.") Rarely have I ever meant something so truly. I spin around, and walk up to the door. I'll stay here at my post until my leaf wrinkles and my vines rot if needs be. The silence presses heavily, and from within I fell I can hear a barely audible whimpering. ("Hey Ash, what's wrong? Why won't you tell me?") I can hear shuffling, movement. Maybe I'm getting through to him. ("Whatever it is, I won't tell a soul. Or maybe you're waiting for another young, virile girl to share your problems with?") A sound then, almost like a snort of laughter. ("You know, you'd better come out of there eventually, I still want my pyjamas you know.") I'm sure I heard a rippling of giggles then. But I feel like I need to get something off my chest. ("You know, I'm not sure if you realise how much this stings, being shut out. I feel like I'm young again, and my brothers are plotting something against me.") Another memory bundles into me. ("Like the day they decided to shut me out completely. They said it was because I was "different". Just because I'm a girl.") I feel a tear form in my left eye, and fight to stop it. ("Because of what I am, not who I am.") The tears win, and slip down onto my face. I don't care, I need to say this to someone, anyone. ("You were the only one who never shut me away, but now…now…") I lay my cheek on the floor, squeezing my eyes shut tightly against the burning pain clutching at them. ("Now it feels the same, and I can't help thinking its because I'm different….") I feel a warm pair of arms scoop me up, and the sound of a door shutting. Then the sensation of dropping, and eventually rest…and I open them again to see Ash staring into my eyes with smouldering compassion.  
  
"I know perfectly, I know too well….." He croaks dryly, eyes brimming with more than tears. Fear? Despair?  
  
("How? How can you?") I don't want to say that, but it comes tearing from my throat, ripped out by an invisible hand.  
  
"Because….because of this…" He puts me down, and slowly slips his pyjama top over his head. My eyes travel down from his face, and stop suddenly. He sees them widen, and tucks his knees up into his chin, concealing himself.  
  
("How-how did this happen?") I gasp, my mind screaming in shock.  
  
"It first happened about six months ago, but only traces, and for a few minutes. It has happened a few times since, but this is the longest it's gone on, almost a whole night. I can feel it, it's fading now, by breakfast I'll look normal. But what is normal? Am I Ash or someone else? Every time this happens it gets worse and worse, lasts longer and appears stronger. As if I'm trying to evolve somehow. What does that make me? Am I even….human?" A look of such anguish passed into his face that I was burrowing into his chest before I even thought of it.  
  
("Don't ever ask that! You're Ash, and you're as real as anyone! If anything you're larger than life!") I cry, somehow hoping if I hug him tightly enough he'll believe me all the more.  
  
"But I'm so confused…." I look up into his hazel eyes, and see floods of uncertainty, floods threatening to sweep him into a whirlpool of hysteria.  
  
("I know.") I rear up, and place my front paws on his neck, craning upwards to look at him more closely. ("But you have to realise that to me, you're you no matter how you look.") To prove my point, I place my lips onto his cheek, in a human display of affection. He seems to relax, sighing like the last wisps of a hurricane through the trees. ("As long as I can feel your touch, taste your tears, hear your laughter that's all I need.") Our eyes lock again, and now I'm overjoyed to see the glint of a smile in them as he draws me tightly to himself.  
  
"Thank you, thank you Chikorita." He rocks me gently, stroking my leaf with exquisite tenderness. ""But please, do not tell anyone about this, anyone." He must sense my surprise, so he continues. "If anyone else finds out my life might not be worth living. You've accepted me with no qualms, but think of everyone else. Pikachu may be not have a problem, but she'd surely tell Misty and Brock if she found out from you. And if any human found out…." I feel him shudder, trembling again.  
  
("What? I don't understand.") I snuggle into him, hoping that it'll help him relax again.  
  
"Right from the start, humans have been afraid of the unknown, the unusual. It's always been a case of "us"" and "them". We're us, and we're normal, friends. They're them, the strange and malformed, the enemy. As civilisation developed, greed became more and more important, and the greediest the most important. They'd try to get all they wanted, and when they got it they wanted more, and protected it against all they didn't know, or all they saw as different. So as life became what it is today, people claim to co-exist and respect each other, but beneath so many smiles are scorn. Some people still find it necessary to discriminate just because others appear different, and I hate it. Hell, some of us fight because we support a different sports team! So what if someone found out about what happens to me?! If people judge, enslave and even kill according to race, what would happen to me? I'd be scorned, branded a mistake, and strapped to some table somewhere to find out exactly how I work, why I'm suck a fucking freak." I slowly let this sink in. I may be naïve to the history of the human race, but I never knew that such things happened. "I don't want to tar everyone with the same brush," he continues, trembling once again, "but for every Misty or Brock there's someone like Ayla Marino…." The name brings a shudder to me as I remember who he's talking of.  
  
  
  
*I jumped in delight at Ashs' side as Cyndaquils' fire blast struck the Wartortle, sending it flying into Aylas' trainer tower. A red light flicked out as Ash recalled Cyndaquil, and he looked across the arena…and gasped. Wartortle lay at the foot of her tower, unmoving, with an ugly crack running almost the length of the upper shell.  
  
"Get up you waste of skin, get up!" She rants, and although it tries valiantly it can't move.  
  
"What the hell are you doing?!" The entire stadiums eyes flicked as one to Ash who'd screamed, aghast at the trainer opposite.  
  
"Getting her to get off her lazy shell and battle!" She replies, eyes flashing.  
  
"That's a major injury! I'm sorry I ordered the attack now, but it can't be helped."  
  
"She'll be fine once she's on her feet!" Ash threw his arms up in the air.  
  
"If she gets up it could be fatal!" The entire stadium gasped as one. "If you want it so badly, I'll forfeit one of my Pokemon, so you don't go behind!" She eyes him up, and looks satisfied.  
  
"Fine, do it." Ash shoots another look of disgust across at her, before crouching down.  
  
"I'm sorry you two, but one of you is going to have to forfeit. I can't see her threatening the life of one of her Pokemon for a little trophy. Will one of you step down?" I cast a look across at Pikachu, who is set in determination, and sigh.  
  
("I'll do it, I'll step down.") He gives me a grateful pat, and stands up again.  
  
"My Chikorita has agreed to forfeit her part in the battle." Another rumble flows through the crowd.  
  
"Whaddaya mean your Chikorita?" Ayla looks suspiciously at me.  
  
"I mean she told me she'd be willing to step down so your Wartortle can be treated."  
  
"Everyone knows Pokemon can't speak like humans!" She sniffs scornfully. I have to fight the urge to gape, it's not unknown for people to understand their Pokemon once they've been around them for a long time. But perhaps she doesn't know because she's never listened….  
  
"Doesn't mean I can't understand Pokemon." The crowd cheers as Chikorita takes a step back, and the penultimate light blinks out on my tally, leaving one light each. Then, she called out….*  
  
  
  
"You see what I mean don't you?" I land with a bump back into reality, and into his wry smile.  
  
("Yeah…")  
  
"We haven't had the best history as a species. But don't forget there are good as well as bad people." He casts his gaze to the ceiling. "But maybe you understand why I'm scared too. And as for Misty, I'm terrified how she'd react if we got closer, or even now." I can see why. She's volatile at times, and I can't predict how she'd react.  
  
("How long are you going to be in here?") He looks down at me, then at himself.  
  
"It's probably safe now. But what the hell am I going to tell them? It's hard to find a reason for running away from your companions like a crazed rabbit."  
  
("Hey, stop getting so worked up at little things!") I reach a vine around his back, and give him a rub. ("You've been running a temperature recently as Brock said, and you could say you had hallucinations as a result. Just take it easy, I'll back you up, and get you out if it gets too much.") He's still for a moment, but then slowly slides upright, stretching his cramped body.  
  
"Yeah, it's got to be done, let's go do it now."  
  
  
  
"So you grabbed him and got scorched hands. Do you know how?" Misty paced around the room, arms folded.  
  
"Nope. He didn't have a lighter or anything on him, so I don't know how the hell he did this." Brock looked at Misty, almost apologetically.  
  
"No idea at all?!" Misty bent down near to Brock, and glared at him.  
  
"No. And I don't like how you're talking to me Misty. It's not my fault, so stop speaking like it is." She took a step back, and wrung her hands together.  
  
"Sorry Brock, I guess I've been a little unhinged by what's gone on this morning."  
  
("We all have, but we don't go around blaming everyone else. Keep a lid on it Misty.") Pikachu scolded from her bed.  
  
"Doesn't it feel like we've been here before?" Brock sighed, having seen the conversation chasing its tail for the last half an hour.  
  
("Tell me about it.") Pikachu growled in frustration, examining her sofa-d foot for scratches.  
  
"I'm afraid I won't be able to shed much light on the situation myself…." Three pairs of eyes shot over to the doorway to see an ashen-faced boy holding a Chikorita in his arms, and struggling to maintain a winsome grin.  
  
"Ash!" Misty launched herself across the room, before stopping dead about a foot from him, trying to decide whether to reach out and kiss him or reach out and strangle him. In the end she decided on the happy medium, and put her hands on her hips. "What do you have to say for yourself?!"  
  
"Uh, sorry." Ash looked down to the Chikorita nestled in his arms, who gave him an encouraging look. "I wasn't thinking straight earlier, I must have been delirious. I've been feeling a bit unwell recently…" *Yeah, sure that was lame but it's the only explanation I can give for now.* He looked around hopefully, for some shred of agreement around the room.  
  
"But you said to me that there as something more." Brock eyes me, leaning against the headboard of his bed. "More than being ill. What is it?"  
  
"Uh…" Ash mentally flailed for an excuse, until it caught the thing which had been on his mind before the previous night. "It's about what I've been seeing in…the fire…" *And it's true, there is a link somewhere, but I can't find out what. *  
  
"Fire?" Brock and Pikachu cast a confused glance at each other, whilst Mistys expression softened visibly.  
  
"What is it Ash, it's still troubling you?"  
  
"Yeah…." *It is still troubling me because there's more to it than you would believe.* To his shock, Misty reached out a hand and gently stroked his cheek.  
  
"No need to worry about it, it's just your imagination. Now, don't let it trouble you so much." She drew her fingers away, aqua eyes mellowing further. "And you are hot, very hot. Do you want me to get you a cold towel? Or a drink?" Ash shook his head silently, glad the bright red of his flushed cheeks were concealing a new flush, creeping up from his feet at Mistys caress.  
  
"Hey, I'm glad that it's nothing serious, but what about my hands?" Brock raised them palm-up towards Ash, who gasped at the red scorch marks, and the blister at the base of his index finger.  
  
"How the hell did that happen?!" his eyes travelled up the arm, to his face. "Honestly Brock, I would never do that to you, any of you!" Their stares met for a moment, until Brock nodded his assent.  
  
"For the first time tonight, I believe you." He cast another glance to his hands. "That still leaves a little mystery unsolved though."  
  
("Yeah…") Pikachu ran over to Ash, and sniffed deeply. ("And you've started to smell a little different for a while, only its stronger today.") She shook her head, mystified. ("Placing this smell, it's….it's like trying to make out a shape from behind a waterfall, indistinct yet familiar.") She cocked her head as Ash unwittingly gasped. ("Why do I get the feeling that you perhaps were worried that would happen?")  
  
"It makes me feel like I'm changing, which is enough to make anyone worry." Misty herself cocked her head at that statement. *He's told us the truth then, but why do I feel he hasn't told us the reality?* "Now, does anyone know how I can get back into my room?" Ashs voice shattered the brief silence, and brought her mind to reality.  
  
"To be honest, you can't. Unless you go and wake up Joy at six in the morning asking for the key and explaining what the hell happened when you lost it!" She snapped, unwittingly harshly.  
  
"I'll go and ask her…oh Joy, I love your pyjamas…" Brock almost floated off the bed, eyes dreamy, bringing sweat-drops to the brows of all present, including Togepi who had seen it happen often enough to know the correct response.  
  
"Ah, in that case I'll go find myself an early breakfast!" Ash turned to leave.  
  
"God, does your stomach ever go to sleep?" Misty sighed, shaking her head.  
  
"Misty, I haven't eaten in fourteen hours…." Ash moaned, even though he wasn't really hungry.  
  
"Well, I'm coming along too. I'm as hungry as you are." She grabbed her clothes, once neatly folded from the night before now in a crinkled heap after being kicked off the bed when she'd got up, and walked into the bathroom to change.  
  
"Erm, okay…" *Damn!* Ash turned back to the other to see if they wanted to come, but Brock was smoking quietly and Pikachu lay with a smug smile on her apparently sleeping face. Maybe not now.  
  
"There's gotta be somewhere in this city that is open, even at this time of the morning." Mistys muffled voice echoed dully through the bathroom door. "I just hope it doesn't sell grease on toast."  
  
"I'll meet you in the lobby." Ash called, before turning to go back into the green-tiled hallway. "After I've ordered up my sewing kit and fabric." He murmured to Chikorita, who grinned in response as they entered the main concourse of the centre.  
  
  
  
"Not a bad bit of munch." Ash nodded contentedly beside me, selling an aura of cheerfulness. I'm not buying.  
  
"Ash, you left half of it. And I finished my toast before you'd even done that." It was true, as soon as we'd set foot in the café he'd looked almost nauseated. He'd eaten some beans, a rasher of bacon, a sausage and about half a slice of fried bread in the time it took for me to eat two rounds of toast and a tall mug of coffee. "Usually you'd put away twice that in half the time." He looks twitchy now, uncomfortable.  
  
"Yeah, maybe I'm growing up." I snort with derision.  
  
"You? Growing up? I think I'll get a hernia if I laugh any harder." He looks like he's been slapped, and I nearly bite my tongue in two. I wish I could when I see a shimmering of tears in the corner of his hazel eyes. But damn my pride, it won't allow me to step down. But I can't help it, I was trying to catch him in conversation the whole time we were there, and he wouldn't even catch my eye. Does he even know I'm there?  
  
"…." His silence is more biting than any remark. I'd always been told silence was golden, but now it's as potent as hot lead. It hangs in the air like an acidic mist until we reach the centre doors.  
  
"Ah, Mister Ketchum!" Nurse Joy called across the still deserted centre lobby, seven thirty being a little early for most trainers. "We've received your…." She cut off, and I caught frantic shushing gestures from Ash beside me.  
  
"What is it?" I turned to face him, my face a study in interest, or nosiness if you want to look at it another way.  
  
"Nothing important." He says, voice completely flat.  
  
"If not then why so secretive?!" I retort.  
  
"Because there some things I like to keep to myself." He replies, with a little more life.  
  
"What could be so bad?!" I snap, feeling a warm glow flood into me. We haven't had a good argument for weeks, months, and I've missed them. It feels like the only time he really *notices* me.  
  
"It's nothing bad." He can't help it, he's rising to the bait. Little by little.  
  
"Then why can't you tell me?" I counter.  
  
"Why do you need to know?" Predictable.  
  
"I'm just expressing an interest." He really set himself up with that reply.  
  
"So you only have a desire to know, therefore it isn't actually necessary for me to tell you." Wha? I've got to admit he floored me with that one.  
  
"But isn't it polite to tell someone if they wish to know?" I can't remember an argument getting this complicated before.  
  
"Is it polite to pry into something someone wishes to hide?" He has grown up, that's for certain.  
  
"If it means no harm, and as you said yourself it isn't important." I counter. I'm really enjoying this!  
  
"Not important doesn't mean not personal." He's still cool, I'll give him that.  
  
"So you're afraid of telling me personal things?" I inject a tone of (not entirely false) angst into my voice, and give him a hurt glance.  
  
"Everyone has something they wish to hide." He's stonewalling now, and I can't work out a way to break it.  
  
"Even from me?" it's a desperate plea, and I know it. And I know his answer.  
  
"Yes." With that, he walks over to the desk, and begins a quiet conversation with Joy. I fight the urge to scream at him, and instead furiously stomp to my room. I'm going to *make* him notice me, if he can't do it by himself….  
  
  
  
I unlock the door with the spare keycard, and drop the bag of sewing kit on the bed. It's a talent I found I had when my mum asked me to try and repair a tear in my shirt I got from falling out of a tree, and I've been practising it in secret ever since. I've actually got very good, but it's not worth the insults I would receive by telling Brock and Misty. God knows I had enough of that from starting a diary. Chikorita leaps off my shoulder, and settles on the red bedspread, looking on with interest. I reach inside the bag, and draw out a long roll of material. I don't need to ask if she likes it, the way her eyes light up as she sets them on it is enough. It's not cheap either, in fact it's twice as expensive as my pyjamas, but only the best for my Pokemon. Very good quality, soft cotton in pale green, patterned with blue chicory flowers and ash leaves (a little personal touch). I hold out the end of the fabric, and she touches it carefully, before nodding.  
  
("It feels gorgeous.") She breathes, looking up at me with an expression of delight.  
  
"I ordered it specially. You can pull a few strings when you're seen as the Pokemon master, even if you aren't in name." I pull out a notepad and a tape measure. "Now, I'm gonna have to take a few measurements, like foreleg length, hindleg length, distance between the two, waist size although most girls prefer it if a guy doesn't find out…" She lies still as I take the measurements down, and work out what I need. Eventually, I plot out some rough patterns on the fabric, and set to cutting. It's therapeutic to work on something like this, and it does a good job of distracting me. I wouldn't even know Chikorita was in the room.  
  
("Do you think you could go into a business doing this?") I carefully turn a corner with my scissors, and shrug.  
  
"I could when I get too old for training. But now I'm more concerned with that." She looks down at the green cotton, then back up at me.  
  
("Do you think I've got it in me to be a seamstress?") I smile, still cutting.  
  
"Depends on how dextrous your hands are. But with your vines you'd make a great assistant."  
  
("Maybe we should go into partnership!") She giggles, handing me a smaller pair of scissors for the more complicated parts of the cutting.  
  
"Not a bad idea, not a bad idea at all." I finish cutting out the main body- piece and hold it up. "Now stand up, I need to check this against you to see if it fits. She stands up, and puts her legs through the four holes in the fabric, and I draw it around her. Need about half a centimetre off half way down, a centimetre around the chest, the neck is fine.  
  
("You know that it's taken you a whole hour to do that piece?") I glance at my watch, it reads quarter to nine.  
  
"Yeah, time flies when you're having fun. I think I can probably do the main body-sock and legs today, and put the finishing touches on it tomorrow with any luck." I start carefully trimming the edges down to size, but stop as something catches my eye. My diary, still sitting open on the bed, Chikorita not so idly glancing at the scrawled writing filling the page. I struggle for a moment to choke down the anguish scrabbling for my voice. The first time anyone, anyone ever has seen anything written on those pages, it's enough to make me want to cry. To be so weak, for someone to read my soul in black and white.…the silence seeps into her consciousness, and she casts a guilty look up at me. Guilt which dissolves into panic. Eventually I break the painting, dropping my gaze back down to the fabric, trying to ignore the shaking of my fingers.  
  
("Oh, Ash…") I can feel her moving towards me, and try to fight off the burning of my eyes, the sob in my chest. It's a fruitless attempt, I feel two lines of wetness burn down my cheeks and drop onto the soft fabric, staining it a darker green.  
  
"Why?" I whisper, clenching my hands into fists. "Why did you read it?" She looks as woebegone as I feel devastated.  
  
("It just caught my eye, and I couldn't help it, I just couldn't…") A slow breath, a quiet hiccup.  
  
"How much did you see?" I don't know what I wrote most of last night, but I know that whatever was written was impassioned and unrestrained. Foolish of me to leave myself so exposed.  
  
("All of it, all of these two pages…") She creeps further into my field of view, eyes and leaf cast down in a gesture of submission.  
  
"Why?" I can only gasp, voice strangled by fear.  
  
("There were things I wanted to know, know how you really felt last night going through it all.") She sighs, still looking away. ("Now I understand more, better. But that wasn't all I found.") I feel my shoulders slump, pressed down by an invisible force. ("What do you mean by "The real change is yet to come?"") That's the question, the question I want no one to ask. I don't know, but something is telling me that a change is coming, something to not only change my life, but maybe who I am. The only answer I can give is the truth.  
  
"I don't know…."  
  
  
  
Just a little touch there, a hint more here. Now, twilight blue or meadow green? Blue, goes with my top better…I carefully brush some of the eyeshadow on, and smile at the result. Yeah, I'd say I look pretty good. Now for the other side…  
  
("Boo!") A well-timed squeak from Pikachu has the effect of making my body go vertical, and adding a long stripe of blue to my face. I spin around and grit my teeth to stop myself going to town on her, an effort that gets even more difficult when she bursts out laughing.  
  
"Why the hell did you just do that?!"  
  
("It w-was j-just tooooo tempting!") She sniggers, and I decide it's hammer time. After suitably satisfying retribution, she's seeing pidgeys and I've moved on to the trial of trying to remove the long scar of eyeshadow without ruining the rest of the make-up. Not very successfully.  
  
"Look at this, I might as well start again!" I throw a comb at the mirror, annoyed what it insists on showing me, which is me with a blue streak from eye to chin.  
  
("I think it's very tropical. You know, face paint!")  
  
"I'll give you face paint." I growl, hand tightening on a compact with intention to throw. "Do you know how long it takes to do this?"  
  
("Nope.") She grins, sitting down on the edge of the sink beside me. ("But it's amazing, the things you'll do for Ash.")  
  
"This is not for Ash! It is the first night in a new city, and I'm proving I'm a worthwhile catch!" I still don't know why I have some sort of auto- response whenever someone says that, and I can see Pikachu is unimpressed.  
  
("Yeah, for anyone who is sixteen with black hair and a runners-up medal in the Pokemon league.") Even thinking of him is enough to convince me I have to look perfect, and I sigh at my reflection. ("Hey, what is it?") Pikachu edges nearer to me, sounding cautious.  
  
"Does he ever even notice me?" I voice the question to the world, not really asking for an answer, more for the release of saying it.  
  
("Of course. Brock told you the other day he was checking you out, so to speak.") That isn't what I want, anyone can look at someone else.  
  
"But when I try to get close he doesn't seem to care. He even backs off."  
  
("Misty, he's got problems. You said he's changed, something is worrying him. Before that he was too young to really notice or understand, and so were you to be honest. When he's resolved whatever it is, you'll be the one he turns to. Trust your very own agony Pikachu on this one.") I smile at her, although I can almost hear my muscles creak with effort. Satisfied, she hops down and scurries to the door. I look back to the mirror and sag, biting my lip. Why am I lying to myself? I strive for perfection, but I'm me. Damaged goods, already faulty. Just a redhead with an outsized mouth and a temper like napalm. Unseen, but burns hot as the sun, and almost impossible to extinguish. At least when I was younger he used to pay me some attention. I cast a forlorn look over myself, everywhere there's fault. Nose a little to small, eyes too big, chin too pointed, hair too red. I can feel myself tearing up, and choke it off. Crying won't help any. Slowly, I reach for the foundation again, to try and clean up the dark streak adorning my face. It's too reminiscent for me to bear it any longer.  
  
  
  
I peek through the crack in the door, and see her staring blankly at the mirror. Somehow I don't think she believes me. Especially as she reaches up and runs a hand down her left cheek, tracing the line of make-up.  
  
"You know there's places you can go in the city for a peep show." Brocks' sarcastic voice chops through my concentration, and I glare up at him as he sits on the end of his bed, a sardonic smile on his lips. "What's so interesting? If it was me looking at a girl through the crack of a door you'd not be surprised, although I'd be shocked, I'm sure." I shoot one last glance through the crack in the door, to see Misty snap out of her trance and pick up some more make up.  
  
("She's going into silly season about Ash.") He groans, and his brown eyes gaze at the ceiling.  
  
"Why do I feel like I'm going to get dragged into another turf war between those two?"  
  
("Because that's exactly what's going to happen. Although the stakes are high this time.") I hop onto the bed, and sit down next to him in the human pose, legs dangling over the edge. He looks like he's contemplating something he doesn't like. ("Penny for you thoughts, Brocko?") He sighs pensively, scratching the back of his head.  
  
"Ash is stubborn and secretive, Misty is persistent and short-tempered. If she's got her sights set on him but he's hiding something, she won't give in. And neither will he. And we'll be stuck between a rock and a hard place. I know, and you know Ash only wants her, but he doesn't seem to be in a position to do anything. Misty wants Ash, and she'll do everything. This could explode at any time, and we can't really do anything."  
  
("Except put on the helmets and take cover.") I finish, slumping backwards. It's on days like this I wish I'd stayed in my Pokeball.  
  
  
  
("I'm really sorry.") He doesn't reply, just keeps on cutting, cutting, cutting metronome like, swathed in an air of anger and fear. The same way he's been for the last, oh, two hours. ("I'm really really sorry…") I creep a little closer to him, but he keeps his chocolate eyes fixed on the cloth, unwilling to listen. He's cutting and stitching like a man possessed, he's done almost all of it now. ("I'm really really really…") The scissors go whistling into the wall, where they stick. I step back, suddenly scared by his glare which sears into me like molten steel.  
  
"Sorry huh?" His tone is deathly, the whispering of trees in a silent graveyard. "Will that make me forgive? Maybe, but forget? Forget that I trusted you with my secrets for which you replay me by looking for more without my knowing?" I can't answer, paralysed by guilt. "Sorry, well that means you feel remorse, but repentance?" He picks up his small scissors, and goes back to cutting.  
  
("I don't know how I can make it up to you…") I begin, and his eyes flash again.  
  
"You can't. All you can do is not tell anyone what you saw, and don't quiz me on it either. Over time, you could prove your loyalty to me again." Something in his tone makes me angry, perhaps the suggestion that I have to prove anything to him. Without thinking, I blindly growl back.  
  
("Don't patronise me. Besides, it would only take one slip of my tongue and you couldn't make them forget….") I'm a fucking idiot. Why the hell did I say that? ("No, I wouldn't do that. Not to anyone, and especially not to you!") He pauses in his cutting, thinking.  
  
"Well if you were to do that, it'd be the end of our partnership. And how can I believe you now when you say you wouldn't?" He goes back to his work. "But right now, I'd prefer it if I was alone, so close the door on your way out please." His emotionless tone leaves no room for argument, and I shuffle out dejectedly. Now I need to prove myself to him, and soon. And I don't know how….  
  
  
  
I feel guilty as she makes her dejected way out of the door, but shake off the sentiment quickly. It's just another example of why I shouldn't trust anyone. I've been betrayed enough in the past to know not to let anyone know my present. Wasn't it George Orwell who wrote "They who control the past control the future, and they who control the future control the present"? Bet the others don't know I've read 1984. But he's right. Chikorita found out something, and it's in the past, irreversible. This changes my future, which changes what happens now. And I don't like it, not one bit. All there is to do is sit tight and wait. I pick up a needle and some grass-green thread, and thread the needle in one without thinking about it. She may have just done something stupid, but a promise is a promise. I'm just settling into a comfortable silence when a rap on the door makes me jump, and prick myself.  
  
"Ash, we're going out in about half an…" he breaks off as my yell of pain bounces around the room, and I yank the needle out of my finger. However, the finger itself persists with its over-enthusiastic bleeding, so I stick it in my mouth. "Are you okay in there Ash? I'm coming in."  
  
"No! Just give me a second!" I hurriedly pull the blanket off my bed and throw it over the sewing kit, material and my diary, as he pushes the still ajar door open and paces into the room.  
  
"What's the problem?" I show him my left hand, index finger seeping blood, and he examines it closely. "Hmmm, not too bad, quite deep but not too serious." He glances around the room, then back at me. "How did you do this? It looks like a pin or a needle, but I can't see one."  
  
"Uh, I nicked it on something as I stood up." Well, it's not entirely a lie.  
  
"Anyway, the reason I came in here is to tell you we're off out in fifteen minutes, so get ready. And one other thing…" He sits down on my bed, and frowns. "Uh, why does it feel like I'm sitting on something?"  
  
"Because you are-my bed." He glares at my flippant response, and in one fluid movement pulls the sheets off and turns around before I can blink.  
  
"What's this?!" I shoot to the other end of the bed, pick up my diary and cradle it as he gapes at my creation. He picks it up slowly and examines it from every angle. "It's amazing, I've never seen something like this, they don't make things this well in the shops if they do anything like it at all." I look down at the floor, wishing he'd just go away. "Ash, did you make this?" A tone of disbelief is rich in his voice. I incline my head silently, still looking down. "I-I've got to say, this is the best piece of Pokemon clothing I've ever seen made. It's rare to see any, and all there are is for kids to dress up Snubbuls or something. Why did you keep this quiet?" He's now almost whispering, voice awash with awe.  
  
"After the scorn I got for getting a diary, I didn't want anyone to know of this, it'd seem silly or pathetic." I look down to the ground as I say it. Now I know what seems silly or pathetic. Me.  
  
"Ahhh, you baka. You really think that we'd look down on you because of that? I'm not bad with a needle myself, you learn that looking after as many kids as I did." Yeah, it seems obvious now.  
  
"It's not done yet, I've still got to add the fourth leg, and then the trim…"  
  
"These are Chikory flowers yes?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And leaves?" He looks at me quizzically.  
  
"Ah, Ash leaves…." He stares at me for a second longer before smiling.  
  
"You know, there's far more to you than meets the eye. Chikory and Ash. Chikory for Chikorita, Ash for Ashton. Both plants for a plant type to wear, and nicknames for you both. I take back anything I ever said about you being dense."  
  
"Ah, it's nothing." I feel my cheeks begin to glow at the praise.  
  
"Misty'll love it too." My cheeks glow further, but this time out of shyness.  
  
"Nah, don't tell her Brock, I'll tell her myself." He smiles again.  
  
"Want to impress her do you?" He laughs as I scramble for some sort of cover.  
  
"Nah, I've got my image to protect remember?" A pathetic rebuff, but he takes it at face value.  
  
"Don't worry, I'll not tell a soul." He takes a last look at the garment before laying it almost reverently back onto the bed.  
  
"Thanks Brock." I give him a gentle nudge towards the door. "Now I'm going to change, so if you don't mind…"  
  
"Oh! One other thing, make sure you are nice to Misty today, she needs it." With that ambiguous comment he's out of the door. I push it shut, just to make sure I'm not disturbed while changing. I grab a pair of long black shorts and a tight, short-sleeved navy T-shirt, and change quickly. I still feel hot even on an spring morning, and it's no less confusing than yesterday. But with Chikorita knowing what she does, things are going to get a lot more confusing from here….  
  
  
  
Okay, I hope you enjoyed that chapter, and even if you didn't please R&R! The next chapter could be up any time, so see you soon.  
  
Bye for now.  
  
Dan 


	3. Old and new flames

Okay, here's part Three. I hope no one was scared off by the slightly odd events in the last chapter (I think I might have scared eternal rhapsody off, mind you – Just kidding!) but it's going to get more interesting from here. Promise. Not that it isn't interesting already, I hope. Big hugs to Bigred, Katie and Dragoness – I wish everyone reviewed as much as you do! And another reminder – If you haven't read One Heart, do it! Thanks to all other reviewers, and to Cultnirvana – liked the e-mails!  
  
I'm sure you know the drill, if you've got time to read this, maybe you've got a few moments to review? Possibly? Ah, go on!  
  
Disclaimer – I do not own Pokemon or any of the characters in the games or the animations, they all belong to the various owners and proprietors of Pokemon itself.  
  
So, here goes nothing.  
  
Child of the light one - Chapter III  
  
  
  
: The time grows nearer. I wait with baited breath, a feeling of pulsating suspense I have never felt before in my reign of a thousand lifetimes. I may lament forever on my errors, if there is eternity to live or forever to die, but at least I can discover one or the other. It is not loneliness which tears at me, it is the knowledge that I must bear through it all again. This is the knowledge I seek to disprove.:  
  
  
  
She pulls out her wallet, and I just know she's got her eye on the Poliwhirl figurine in the window. Yeah, that's the one, the one with the crystalline body punctuated with a swirl of black and just a mere hint of blue. The one that costs too much. Well, sixty-nine dollars is too much by my estimate for something you'll look at once a week on the mantelpiece. And since Misty hasn't got a mantelpiece, that'll be a trial on its own. I know what'll happen, she'll complain her backpack is full, I'll back off saying that I carry the cooking stuff, and Ash will eventually end up carrying it. Oh, and the plush Horsea doll, and the lucky china Tentacruel. And whatever else she chooses to buy today. He's going to get backache. And a dislocated shoulder, and a strained neck, and chest compression injuries when he collapses. But he always buys a bigger backpack, never passes it off even though he's carrying Chikoritas and Pikachus stuff as well. Yes, Pikachu and Chikorita, of whom Pikachu currently is riding the good ship Ash with the attitude of "Well he's carrying the bags, so I won't hurt". Chikorita is trailing behind us, eyes cast down. Something is going on here, a few hours ago she seemed to be his greatest ally, now she's almost in disgrace. Ash himself is patiently awaiting Mistys orders, he's taking my request of him seriously. He's been at her side for a whole two hours, never complaining, never arguing. Occasionally, he'll drop in a nice comment about her choices, or how she looks, and I can almost feel the blush radiating from her. I catch his eye, which glints in the morning sun as he casts it to the skies. He's doing a real impressive job of building her up, especially taking into account how much he hates shopping. Even at this time of the morning, when the city is almost silent. It's true what they say in the guide, this place doesn't even wake up until the afternoon.  
  
"Oh! This is beautiful!" She heads for the shop with Ash faithfully following her. I'm about to follow when a sniffing around my feet makes me stop. A red, fox-like Pokemon is looking up at me with a quizzical expression.  
  
"Vul, vulpix vul." She moves away slowly, before looking back at me. "Vul?"  
  
"She's asking if you'll follow her." Ash calls over his shoulder before following Misty into the shop. I don't know how he knows, but the sight of the Vulpix barrelling off into the distance is enough to persuade me to pursue. Chikorita dives out of the road with a frantic squeal as I thunder past her, and I pursue it through the almost empty streets to a back alley. From the alley I can hear voices.  
  
"It's unusual to see one of these in a city." A man's voice, quite high- pitched and gentle.  
  
"Yeah, but it seems a little malnourished and ragged. It might have been driven out by its parent." A woman's voice, a tone which strikes something deep, deep within. The Vulpix sends one final look back at me before going into the alley, and I feel my feet carry me in where I set eyes on two people. One a guy with green hair and a headband, the other looks like a very attractive woman. There's something about the two of them… "I'll catch it, it needs looking after." It couldn't be, I just couldn't! "…I've needed another fire type, and there's nothing more beautiful than a well groomed Rapidash."  
  
"Vul!" The Vulpix yelps indignantly from her feet.  
  
"Well, excepting you obviously!" A red glow illuminates the alleyway, and the two of them slowly turn around and continue their conversation. Even through the clinging shadows I know it's her.  
  
"So how did you meet Brock, Tracey?" I was sure I knew him from somewhere too.  
  
"I was travelling with Ash and Misty through the Orange Archipelago and met him briefly before they headed out to Johto. How about you Suzy?" The name freezes me to the spot. Yes, by god, it is her!  
  
"We first met in my breeders centre back in Johto, and I gave him Vulpix. We met later at a breeders show, and he gave her back to me." I step out of the shadows, just as she walks past.  
  
"And now, we meet for a third time." She nearly does a backflip, and spins around clutching her chest.  
  
"Jesus! Brock, is that really you?!" I take a step closer, and she gasps in joint surprise and relief.  
  
"I think it's me, just let me check." I look over myself, and nod. "Yeah, I think it's me." She looks stuck between A : hurling herself at me or B : having Vulpix make "Brock Au Vin" on high heat.  
  
"Brock!" Judging by the way she's hurled herself at me I think its option A.  
  
"It's nice to see you too Suzy." She pulls back, and I find she likes both options. "That's for giving me a heart attack!" She laughs as Tracey sends out Marril to extinguish my trousers.  
  
"Ah, re-unions can be such bittersweet occasions." I shoot him a glare which he grins straight through.  
  
"Especially when you nearly kill said friend." Suzy giggles, reaching down to pet Vulpix.  
  
"So you return the favour." I grumble, trousers now quietly smouldering as Marril giggles with her, while balancing a bubble on her nose.  
  
"Right now, I think it's time to find a café, I get the feeling there's going to be a few life histories spilt in the next few hours."  
  
"Tracey, you've hit the nail right on the head as usual." He hasn't changed, he's still got that way of reading people and situations. He'd make a great Psychoanalyst. I think he thinks it's a hobby. Sketching is a hobby. But he doesn't sketch, he takes it to a new level. It's more like he invents, sees what he sees and perfectly transfers it to paper. It's the same when he watches and listens, you get the idea he's painting a mental picture of everyone, how they act to each individual and in a group, what they push and what they avoid. Hmm, this could be useful, if a little mercenary.  
  
"Broo-oock." Suzy shatters my world of thought, and I look back up.  
  
"Someone's in another world." Tracey cocks his head at me. "What's clouding you up Brock?" Yes, he could definitely be helpful.  
  
"Let's get to the café, then I'll tell you all about it…"  
  
  
  
Yeah, it's a comfortable seat, and I don't have to do any work. But I've got tired of Mistys vehement exclamations whenever she sets eyes on something mildly interesting or cute. Ash just looks happy, like he does whenever he lets me and Chikorita roam around a meadow, despite Chikorita dragging him to inspect every bloom and weed in it. Sort of glad someone he loves is having a good time, even if he's tired. But now I'm tired, and it's approaching lunchtime.  
  
("Ash, let's get some food!") I growl, and look to Chikorita for support. Nothing there.  
  
"Pikachu, Misty is in command. It's up to her when we go for lunch." Misty grins silently, and now I curse the demand we made of Ash. If he'd got a hint of his old belligerence we'd be on the way somewhere right now. Not poking around silly shops.  
  
"Ah!" The red hair in front of me washes across my vision as Misty spies a shop on the other side of the road. The dregs of scent harnessing my nose tells me what I need to know, and that is only one word. Perfume. Chikorita perks up; she seems interested in the new smells too. "Come on Ash, over there!" I can feel his shoulder stiffen to the consistency of dried concrete as he sets eyes on the delicate bottles and crass plastic flowers decorating the shopfront.  
  
"Uh, could you go in alone Misty?" She turns around and gazes at him in puzzlement as I mimic her gesture from his right shoulder. It's the first time he's gone against her all day, and I don't know why. I mean he's always hated and avoided perfume (except on an attractive woman) but he looks kinda scared. Scratch that, he looks petrified.  
  
"Why? It can't hurt, and I want your opinion!" Before we know it, we're across the road, courtesy of Mistys strong grip. The stronger scent wafting from the shop is enough to block my over-sensitive nose, but by the way Ash suddenly jerks back you'd think he'd been stung.  
  
"No, no. I want to stay out here. Please? Chikorita can go in with you, she's better at this sort of thing!" He's getting frantic now, and she's concerned.  
  
"I know you've never liked perfume but there's no need to panic!" She studies him closely for just a second, taking in the dilated pupils and clenched hands, before shrugging. "Okay, so it's me and one of you two." She glances first at Chikorita, then at me. "Volunteers?"  
  
("You go in Pikachu. There's something I want to talk to Ash about for a moment.") Chikorita takes me by surprise, I'd almost forgotten what she sounds like.  
  
"Fine, c'mon Pikachu." Damn, I got sold off then. Misty lifts me off Ash, and sets me down. "But I'd like an explanation when I get out, if you please." She growls at Ash, before spinning and stalking into the shop, and after giving Chikorita a "you're roadkill when I get hold of you next" glare I benignly follow her. I'd like to know what's so important that I have to go into a perfume shop, as you could send me to the fires of hell before somewhere like this. My nose is just too sensitive…a-aah-ahtishoo! The million mingled scents assault my sense of smell like a marauding crew of pirates, and I growl quietly. There's going to be hell to pay alright.  
  
  
  
("It sets you off doesn't it?") I paw at Ashs leg, trying for a response. No sale. ("It's something to do with the strong smells, the essences in the scent.") Ah, a flicker of the eyes there, I'm onto something. ("It is, isn't it?")  
  
"Yeah, something like that." He glances around the street cautiously before crouching down. I can see the mistrust lingering in his eyes being overridden by a desire, a desire to share his burden. Slowly, the desire won. "I don't know exactly, when it's being worn and it's not too strong it doesn't affect me. But when I'm in a shop like that it makes me flush, and then anything can happen." He scratches his head, voice laced with confusion at his own words, face ridden with uncertainty at talking to me. But he needs to say it, no matter how it sounds. And I'm the only one he can say it to. "Misty thinks I flush because of being embarrassed, a guy in a perfume shop, but I just get really hot. Really, really hot, like I'm going to pass out. Do you remember that time in the Johto region, when I ran out of the shop looking like I was going to be sick? Well, I was sick in the public toilet down the road. I get the same feeling as when I have those…morphs. Sometimes stronger. It can set the morphing off. But once, just once I felt something else happening, the last time I was in a shop like this. Remember, about two months ago?" I do remember, and well. He'd shot from the store after being in there about ten minutes, and we hadn't seen him for three hours.  
  
("Yeah, I remember. What went on then?") He looks unsure again, so I rear up on my hind legs to look him in the eye. They meet, red to hazel, and I can see him relax. He knows again, if he'd doubted it, that I'm still here for him whenever and wherever, no matter what has happened in the past. He takes a shuddering breath, before continuing.  
  
"Well, I ran back to the Pokemon Centre, where I locked myself in. I decided to take a shower to cool off, and when I took off my shirt, my chest…was covered in this red, downy stuff. A bit like a Pidgeys breast, only the colour of Charizards tail. That's why I hid away, after a few hours it faded out, and I sort of moulted in the shower. Ever since then I've been wondering….what am I? Some sort of werewolf, a freak, is that me? You used to cause me problems until I've got something of an immunity to your sweet scent, but too much of that in my direction can cause changes. It's not just smells, any strong Pokemon using its technique, such as Pikachus electricity and the poison of a Weezing can trigger it if it hits me. And the older I get, the more unstable I get and the longer these things happen for. And I don't know what to do…." I can see it in his eyes, he's going to cry if I don't do anything, he's got himself worked into a new frenzy of panic which will knock him down if unchecked.  
  
("Hey! You're still you! Don't ever forget that!") He's unconvinced, I can tell. ("Look, whoever you think you are, you're Ash to me, and that's what counts, right?")  
  
"….But what if I become someone else…." Utter desolation, that's all I can see.  
  
("Come on! If you stop believing in yourself, you'll be someone else. But Ash is not a quitter, never in a million years.") I draw him to me with my vines, and reach up to look at him face to face. ("and as long as you hold onto that you're my Ash, no matter how you look, how you sound, or what you think.") I can see the clouds clear in his mind, and he returns my stare with fresh vigour.  
  
"You know, you're a godsend Chikorita. I'm sorry at going off at you for reading my diary." He picks me up, cradling me tenderly as a newborn child.  
  
("I'm sorry I read it. But at least I can help you.") He chuckles ruefully, ignoring the looks of passers by who have just seen him deep in conversation with me and look puzzled.  
  
"Was it Elton John who said "Sorry seems to be the hardest word?"" I snuggle deeper into his arms, enjoying the comfort of his clutches.  
  
("Yes, but when said with an honest tongue it's one of the sweetest words that can pass someone's lips.") I reply with feeling, and can almost feel his smile warming the top of my head.  
  
"I didn't know you could be so poetic!" He whispers, fingers roaming over my leaf.  
  
(" I could say exactly the same.") I sigh.  
  
"You don't know me all that well then, do you?" Again, that tone in his voice which illustrates its speaking with smiling eyes.  
  
("Surprise me.") I don't expect anything much, but surprise me he does.  
  
"Okay then, how's about this?" He clears his throat, and begins speaking in a slow, melodious voice, a voice I have never heard him use before. Each note is as clear as a cut diamond, as sweet as birdsong, passionate as a valentine, and I can feel my eyes close as I slip into the beguiling rhythm, relaxing as a lullaby, enhanced by his gentle metronomic swaying in time with the words.  
  
"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?  
  
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:  
  
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,  
  
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:  
  
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,  
  
And often is his gold complexion dimmed,  
  
And every fair from fair sometime declines,  
  
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed:  
  
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,  
  
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,  
  
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,  
  
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,  
  
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,  
  
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee." For a moment I leave my eyes closed, before letting the world filter back into them gradually.  
  
("That was amazing, simply amazing.") I look up at him, to see him looking distantly to the horizon, caught up in his own spell. Slowly, as I imagine happened to me, his consciousness filters back, and he looks down at me with a broad smile.  
  
"I wish I could lay claim to that, but it was written by William Shakespeare, it's his 18th Sonnet. One of my favourites, and seems very apt for someone who happens to be in my arms about now." His face clouds over again, and he pauses before continuing. "I was going to say it to Misty, but until I can find out what is wrong with me, and find a solution, I can't. It would destroy her if something happened to me after we'd got together, and it would do the same to myself too." I can see the logic, but something isn't quite right.  
  
("You know, if she loves you which I'm sure she does, no I know she does, she'll stay with you whatever happens.") His shaking head cuts me off.  
  
"You still don't quite understand Chicory." Chicory? Since when has he called me Chicory? "People don't have an open mind to the unknown, they see it as a threat. If something weird happens to me, she'd run a mile before stopping and thinking of what was actually going on. And it's always been that way." I still find this hard to believe, but he seems so definite that I can't disagree. "Uh, Chicory?" He sounds different now, pensive.  
  
("Yeah?")  
  
"When we get back to the centre, could we try something?" I want to question him, but a glance to the shop from which Pikachu and a pissed off Misty with ridiculously skewed hair are emerging is enough for me to just nod.  
  
("Piii-kaaah-chooooo!") A shot of static erupts around Pikachu as she sneezes, and Misty throws her hands up in annoyance.  
  
"You dumb rodent! You got us thrown out!" Pikachu sneezes again, sending another blast of static into the area.  
  
("It's not my fault I'm hyper sensitive to sprays!") I can feel myself giggling as I ask the classic question.  
  
("What the hell happened to you two?")  
  
("After a few minutes some stupid woman decided to demonstrate the new scent of the season on me. ME! It went straight up my nose, and…") Pikachu burst indignantly.  
  
"Started off a sneezing fit, which caused you to give out masses of static yes?" Ash is smiling widely, he can see where this is going too.  
  
"Yeah! The first two waves caused everyone's hair to stand on end, and then every metal aerosol and make-up box flew towards her! She tried to run out with them stuck to her, and we nearly got arrested for shoplifting!" Misty is real pissed, and her hair standing on end doesn't help with the image.  
  
"You could always say you're going to see Iron Maiden…" Ash cracks, and before she can reply we're rolling on the floor, clutching our sides with laughter.  
  
"You'll pay for that one, Ash Ketchum." She growls, before pulling out a comb from a pocket in her grey slacks. Unfortunately her hair isn't listening to its orders, the only way to define it would be spring-loaded. Pikachu is in the same boat, she resembles the fluffy doll we saw earlier, bar the expression of disgruntlement.  
  
"Here, try this." Ash pulls his cap off, and places it squarely on her head. We step back, and admire his handiwork. With the hat snug on her head, some red hair flowing out of it, she at least looks presentable. Needless to say though, she isn't impressed.  
  
"Ash, I look like a scruffbag! Plus it'll take a week to get the tangles out of my hair!" The problem of tangles is solved quite rapidly.  
  
("Pi-kaa-aaah-aaaaaah-CHOOOOOO!!") In an instant, the world goes black. Light slowly filters in as a hysterical Ash lifts his cap off my head where it had landed, letting in the view of a dazed Pikachu and an incandescent red-head whose hair is now skewed in a perfect ring around her face, making it look like the sun is setting behind her. The pieces slowly fit together. Misty with lots of hair cramped under a cap + a high charge of static + laws of physics = Cap blown off +…..laughter. The first gales of insane giggling hit me at about the same time it hits Ash, with the result of the two of us collapsing to the floor for the second time in as many minutes.  
  
"Okay, how do you like it?!" Misty scoops Pikachu up, and gently tosses her into Ash's lap as he's getting over the latest bout of hysterics, which has the same sobering effect on him as a final demand from a loan shark. As Pikachu inhales again I can see his eyes swell with apprehension, and a few of the words he's spoken come back to me.  
  
*It's not just smells, any strong Pokemon using its technique, like Pikachus electricity or the poison of a Weezing can trigger it if it hits me….*  
  
("Pi-kaaah-choooo!") I shudder as the static blast runs through me, but shrug it off as I put Pikachu down and retract the vines I'd used to pull it off Ash and over to me moments earlier. I see the relief wash into his face, and know it was worth it.  
  
"Hey, all I wanted was to see his hair stand on end!" Misty glares down at me, but I return it.  
  
("Don't you think you're being a little petty?") I reply calmly, shuffling over towards Ash.  
  
"It was a bit of fun!" Her aqua eyes track me, her focus intense.  
  
("Pika-chuuuuu!") The focus fades out and she slumps to the floor as Pikachus intentional shock leaves her smoking again. ("I don't appreciate being used like a beachball either!") She huffs indignantly, before looking through Ashs backpack for a tissue as he still sits on the pavement. I look up into his face, and he winks down at me in thanks. I get the feeling all is forgiven.  
  
"Okay, what is this, let's all hack Misty day?" She slowly pulls herself to her feet, dusting off her slacks and trying to ignore the tittering of a few teenage girls stood watching on the street corner. A futile attempt. "And don't you Rattatas have somewhere more important to be? If not then I'm sure I could find somewhere, like pain central, Johto?" The three of them turn red as hot coals, and begin making their not-so-nonchalant way towards us. Great going Misty. They look about the same age as her, two maybe a little younger but nevertheless equally angry.  
  
"You got a problem with us?" The one with shoulder length brown hair sneers, casting an eye over Misty. Sure Misty looks scrawny, but I've no doubt she could mop the floor with these three without breaking sweat.  
  
"Yeah, you know it's bad manners to laugh at someone you don't even know?" She glowers back. Just then the middle one steps forwards, and everything from her ridiculously flashy shoes to her overdone highlights screams out one word – attitude. As in problem.  
  
"Judgin' by the way your hair is stickin' out it looks like it don't want nothin' to do with you, an' I don' say I blame it." The smug look on her face is erased by the blur that is Misty, and she careers into the shop window before slumping to the floor, eyes spinning and hands clutching her jaw.  
  
"Maybe I should just slap your face right off, it's probably ashamed you're wearing it." I don't think those girls have ever met a girl like this, someone who uses fierce pride and clenched fists rather than nails and snide remarks.  
  
"Hey! You don't do that to one of us and get away with it!" The third girl, undoubtedly the eldest of the group with ridiculous hair and ego to match, steps forwards. She looks a bit older than Misty, perhaps seventeen, but she doesn't have the brains of Psyduck.  
  
"Looks like I have, unless you plan to change that." She puts her hands on her hips and smiles sweetly back at her.  
  
"Yeah I have so it happens, ya scrawny brat." Oh. Dear.  
  
"Pardon?" Misty leans closer, her smile even brighter.  
  
"I said yeah, ya scrawny…" It's hard to continue speaking when your jaw is held in someone's hand, with a grip comparable to crocodiles jaws.  
  
"Okay Misty, I think you made your point." Ash raises himself to his feet, and places a hand on her shoulder. She glances at him briefly before reluctantly letting go of the girl and stepping back.  
  
"OhmyGOD! It can't be…" The first girl is having palpitations, by the looks of it.  
  
"Pikachu, Chikorita, red head accompanying him…." The oldest girl reads through a mental checklist.  
  
"Devilishly handsome, muscular, black hair with red cap….It's…" The smarmy one adds, getting to her feet.  
  
"…ASH KETCHUM!" The three of them instantly surround him, almost visibly drooling.  
  
"Uh, hi…" He looks over at me and Misty, with an obvious pleading look. He's never been good at telling people he doesn't know to just, well, get lost.  
  
"Okay, he's taken!" Misty steps in, and grabs him by the arm.  
  
("Yeah, give it a rest!") They just shoot me a confused look, but get the picture when my vine wraps around his other arm and pulls him over.  
  
("C'mon, just buzz off somewhere would ya?") Pikachu puts in, finally over her sneezing fit.  
  
"Taken?"  
  
"By you?!"  
  
"Don't make me laugh! He probably feels sorry for you, you're just a no- name valley girl!" Before I can react, Ash spins around in response to their calls, fury etched into every curve of his face.  
  
"If you haven't noticed, I call her Misty, as that's her name. But I don't see anyone calling you, least of all me. Co-incidence? Maybe it's you I should feel sorry for." With that, we're around the corner, and judging by the lack of retorts, out of their league.  
  
"Thanks Ash, I probably would've put one of them through the wall." Misty smiles, taking the comb back out in another attempt to restore it to some semblance of order, this time with a little success.  
  
"It's not problem, I owe all of you thanks for getting me out of there with all my clothes intact." I can just see the questions they both want to ask dancing on their lips, just begging to be spoken. Questions about what was said, whether she really meant it when she said he was taken, whether he really meant it when he defended her. But no, as usual the moment passes, and she looks at the floor, him at the sky. I catch Pikachus eye, and we share the traditional look of exasperation. If just once one of them had the guts to try and broach the subject we'd be one big happy family, but nope. To coin a phrase, I'm the king of wishful thinking.  
  
"How's about some brunch? Maybe a coffee?" Misty breaks the silence, and Pikachu and I wholeheartedly agree. The three of us look as one to Ash, who is unusually the last to respond. He gazes to the clear blue sky for a moment, before smiling.  
  
"Sounds good to me too. That city guide suggested one café in particular, and it should be only a few blocks away." He drifts off again, and we casually make our way to twenty-one Kanto Road, and the Noctowl Café.  
  
  
  
"So, why'd they call it the Noctowl café?" Brock sipped on his mug of cappuccino, still trying to find the actual liquid buried somewhere in the froth, and ran a quick glance around the lobby. High-backed seats either side of tables lined the perimeter of the interior, and although the slightly dowdy pale brown décor added a tone of shabbiness it was all the more relaxing.  
  
"Because it's awake all night." Tracey replied, blowing on his mocha. "A popular place for insomniacs and night owls alike, it also has things like blues bands on and is the most highly rated and safe café in the town. It's pretty cheap too, considering the overall highbrow nature of a lot of the shops." Brock shook his head, an incredulous smile pinching at his mouth.  
  
"Trace, you've been here what, a few days? And you already sound like a tour guide." Tracey grinned back in response, slowly stirring a sachet of brown sugar into his steaming cup.  
  
"First rule of travelling for me, know your destination. Helps you blend in and you don't get caught by surprise. I was sent here by Prof. Oak on Wednesday because of reported sightings of a legendary Pokemon, so I'm here looking out for it." Suzy chuckled quietly, playing with a sweetener sachet.  
  
"You know, you're wasted by drawing for a living." She ripped it open, and poured it into her own cappuccino.  
  
"How many people can say the think they like to do most is how they make a living?" He blew on the hot liquid, before taking a tentative sip.  
  
"Uh, well I can." Suzy replied with a grin. "That's why I'm here, Brock. It's the annual north Johto breeders convention, and I've been invited in as a speaker on grooming, treatment and beauty techniques. Should go on about another few days."  
  
"If you want any help with massage or beauty, Ash is the man to talk to. He's got massage down to a fine art, even Snorlax wakes up when he's treating its back. And you'll never guess what I saw him doing earlier." Brock smiled, leaving the question obviously open for someone to ask.  
  
"Go on, what was he doing?" Tracey nudged gently.  
  
"At Chikoritas request, making her a pair of pyjamas." This had the effect of making Tracey laugh and Suzy put in the inevitable "Awww, how sweet!". "No, you should see them guys. I've never seen anything like these in a shop. He even got a special pattern, Chicory flowers and Ash leaves." Traceys grin widened even further.  
  
"My, I didn't know he's such a sentimentalist!" Brocks smile dropped again.  
  
"Trace, if you make fun of it in front of him I'll not only see your feet don't touch the ground, but swing gently in the breeze." Suzy giggled at the sudden defensive tone.  
  
"Easy Brock, he's just teasing you! He'd never wind up Ash over something so personal. Besides, I think it's really cute! So, you're still going around with those two?" She asked easily.  
  
"Yep, I'm still not quite ready to settle down. I'm a free spirit see!" *Although at the moment it's more for their good than mine…*  
  
"But your "free spirit" is being choked a little by them, yes?" Brock looked over at Tracey, who just returned the glance with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"You really are wasted by being an artist, you know that?" Tracey just grinned at the comment.  
  
"So what's the problem, last time we met you were happy as a Muk in a swamp." Suzy put in.  
  
"Yeah, and it's been fine until recently. Ash has been acting strangely. He's become shy and secretive, but his intelligence and physical abilities have gone through the roof. He's started staring into campfires for hours, keeps a journal and doesn't seem interested in battling. Now tell me how much more different he could be from who you know as Ash Ketchum." Traceys face clearly displayed that the pieces of the mental jigsaw which was his memory Ash didn't fit with these new pieces.  
  
"Odd." He cupped his chin in his hands, and stared vacantly into space. "How long has this gone on?"  
  
"About six months or so."  
  
"The league final!" Suzy snapped, clicking her fingers. "It must have been because of that Marino woman, maybe he's been shaken up by it…." The shaking heads of her two companions cut her off.  
  
"No, that's just not right. It can't be that." Tracey mused.  
  
"When he's gone down to someone or been shocked by something, he takes it on the chin, drags himself back up and dusts himself off, ready for the next challenge or to go back and finish the job." Brock thought aloud, left hand toying with a loose strand of brown hair.  
  
"What she did was reprehensible, but Ash wouldn't change this much or so rapidly over one small incident." Tracey drained the rest of his mug and eased back into the chair.  
  
"The thing is, this is unsettling me and Pikachu big time. What it's doing to Misty you can probably work out yourselves." Suzy and Tracey nodded, having witnessed first hand what could happen with an over-stressed Misty, often stretching to nuclear proportions.  
  
"So Brock, what you're asking is that while we hang out for the next few days, I keep an eye on them and maybe try and pin it down?" Brock inclined his head just once.  
  
"I don't want to pressurise him, he's already worried by something. But Ash is, and always has been a potential time bomb. He's very good as hiding and storing things, but one day it'll get too much and all hell could break loose with him. He's a bit like a dam, he takes it all and lets it out slowly and controlled, but massive emotion could cause it to collapse." Brock took a short breath, before finishing his own drink. "But Chikorita knows something too, so keep an eye on her. I'll keep an eye on them too, and maybe we can work out what the hell is going on." Tracey pondered it for a moment, before agreeing.  
  
"So, enough of this council of war, what's your plans for tonight Brock?" Suzy turned to him and gave him a wink. "Fancy catching up a little on more old times?" Brock stunned himself by managing to avoid drooling like an idiot, instead smiling and nodding in agreement.  
  
"That'd be great. How's about here today, four-thirty?"  
  
"Sure!" She slid off the seat beside him, and slowly stood up. "So for now, I guess it's adios!" She glided over to the door, turning and looking back as she placed a hand on the handle. "Don't be late!" The door opened, and she was gone.  
  
"Brock? Wakey-wakey!" Tracey brought him back to the land of the living with a click of his fingers in front of his face.  
  
"Huh?" Just then the door swung open again, ushering in four familiar faces currently engaged in a rather verbose discussion.  
  
"Yeah, I'm sure it was Suzy!" Ash growled, heading for the counter.  
  
"Really sure? This coming from the guy who used is Pokedex every time he ran into a Pokemon for three years?" Mistys snide rejoinder caused the few in the café to look on in interest.  
  
"Yeah, well look where it got me! And when was the last time you saw me use a Pokedex?" Ash snapped back.  
  
"Uh…"  
  
("Hey look, There's Brock!") Chikorita called, scuttling over to the table before leaping up onto the chair beside him.  
  
"And…Tracey?" Misty gaped, before following Chikorita over.  
  
"Well, I guess we'll get the drinks will we?" Ash grumbled, irate.  
  
("No, you'll get the drinks.") Pikachu corrected, hopping down from his shoulder.  
  
"Ahh, I'll remember this, you furball." He muttered, before turning to the waitress to order.  
  
"Hey Trace, long time no see. Must be a while now since we last ran into each other." Brock threw a glance to Tracey as if to say "watch Ash" before replying for him.  
  
"Yeah, he's out here for a while by request of Professor Oak. Apparently there's been sightings of a legendary Pokemon in this area." With that, Tracey noted, Ash did the posture equivalent of pricking his ears. His body stiffened slightly, his arm left his hip and he tilted his head to hear better. *Maybe his normal instinct for hearing of a legendary Pokemon, but at the same time he's trying to hide the fact he's listening. Hmmmm. Maybe I should join in.*  
  
"Yeah, I've heard that it's a flying Pokemon, and some think it may be Moltres. They've certainly seen flashes of red." *He's more than listening now, he's straining to pick everything up.* "But I don't think so, as All reports suggest Moltres is still in the Shamouti region. Some think it could be a very large and well-developed Charizard, or a uniquely coloured Dragonite or something big like that. But I'm here to try and find this out." *His ears have virtually turned red now!* Ash picked up the drinks and walked nonchalantly over to our table, and set them down again.  
  
"So Ash, you thinking of going to look for this seemingly legendary Pokemon seen around here?" Tracey asked, noting the slightly flustered look appearing on his face.  
  
"Uh, I guess I might. So, was that Suzy that just walked out of here Brock?" He questioned, turning to face the older man.  
  
"Yeah, she's here for a breeders conference." He replied. *Not too keen on searching for a legendary Pokemon, AND changing the subject from Pokemon? Looks like we've hit pretty close to the mark already.* "And speaking of her, I've gotta be off. It's only a few hours before we meet up for the evening." Mistys mouth dropped open so wide it could have been used to garage Concorde, with ample space for refuelling.  
  
"Brock, on a DATE?!" She murmured in the same tone often found by those who have just seen their sixth number roll down the lottery shoot, or Superman flash past into a phone box and emerge putting on his glasses.  
  
"Yeah, and while you're pinching yourself, do me too just in case." He grinned as he reached the door. "See you later all! Oh and Tracey, don't forget to tip the waitress ten percent…." The giggles of the rest of the table bounded around him as he let his head bang onto the table.  
  
"Damn, why do I ALWAYS fall for that? Picking up the bill as always…."  
  
  
  
We get back to the centre, and he seems fairly happy. Seems. Traceys appearance has shaken him, which means he really is hiding something big. He's scared Tracey has the potential to pick up on whatever it is and work him out. He's pacing beside me now, look almost carefully absent yet genial. Chikorita is having a conversation with Misty from upon her shoulders, and I strain my ears to pick it up. A human wouldn't have a chance, but Pikachus make good spies as well as fighters.  
  
"….be sure he isn't?" Misty sounds anxious, negative.  
  
("Because if he was he'd have given you the money and told you to grow in another meadow. He knows the meaning of the word pity, but doesn't abuse it.") Chikorita, looking like she's frustrated by something.  
  
"It might be just for me, I mean he doesn't act this way to anyone else…" Well, look who's let the twittering of some dopey tart get in her head. Why does Misty need constant reassurance that Ash has something for her?  
  
("God damn it Misty!") Chikorita somehow manages to scream in a whisper. ("You're that insecure? Remember last time in Kanto he lost the title, and who did he turn to for commiseration? You! When he needed someone's shoulder to lean on when Deliah became ill, whose did he lean on? Yours! That time we all went out for your sixteenth, and Team Rocket crashed the place, who did he bust a gut to recover? You!") She shakes her head, leaf rippling with the movement. ("And you still need to ask that?")  
  
"….I suppose you're right. But every time I get doubts." Misty looks thankful we've reached our room, perhaps she wants to speak with Brock, or me, or just louder. But as Ash wordlessly continues to the room next door, I can see the single wistful glance to him which says all which needs to be said.  
  
("I'm going into Ashs now, so I'll see you this evening.") Chikorita bades us goodbye, strolls up the corridor to the still ajar Ashs door, and walks in before it shuts with a definite click.  
  
"Hey Brock, where you to?" Misty calls, seeing the bedroom empty, green bedsheets untouched.  
  
"In here!" A slightly muffled reply finds its way through from the bathroom.  
  
"Getting' yourself tarted up lover boy?" She replies, throwing herself down on the sofa-bed and flicking the television on.  
  
"Yep, its not every day you run into an old flame and find the fire still burns bright." He calls, and I can hear an electric razor hum in the background.  
  
("Hey, even shaving specially! My, normally it takes a weeks bum fluff before you go about that taking operation.") I can picture the wry smile he's wearing right now.  
  
"Yeah, especially because I have to use the electric one. Because SOMEONE pinched my wet one, didn't they Misty?" She sniggers from the sofa in response.  
  
"Hey Romeo, you ever tried taking off underarm hair with an electric razor? I would hope not, but let me tell you it doesn't work." Chuckling, I walk over to the bathroom door and knock.  
  
"It's open!" I jump up and depress the handle in a well practised manoeuvre, and go in.  
  
("Brock, your request was fulfilled to the letter. Ash was a study in attentiveness for Misty, like you asked him to be.") He smiles the best he can without missing some of the stubble on his cheek.  
  
"Heh, good." He slides the shaver around to his chin. "Misty needed that, she thinks he never notices her if he doesn't talk to her every few minutes. She has got a few problems when it comes to him, maybe she's over possessive." I scratch my ear in idle thought.  
  
("Did we have to ask him to go out of his way to make her happy? I think he would've been fine either way, now it seems like we're trying to get them together.") The puzzlement in my voice makes him frown.  
  
"That's part of the idea. It'd be a damn waste to let them drift off. But Misty has her pride, and Ashs attention span on most things now is the length of a snapped matchstick." He shakes his head, razor moving to his throat. "If we interfere too much it could screw it all up, but the same will happen if we ignore it." I sigh, sagging back on my haunches.  
  
("Why do we always get stuck in this crap?") He smiles again, shutting off his razor.  
  
"Because we care. Now, I've got a hot date to attend, so if you'll excuse me…."  
  
  
  
I can feel my blood pressure peak and fall simultaneously. They asked him to pay attention to me? Then maybe he was lying, they were all lying. I'm gonna get hold of Chikorita and wring it out of her, that's for sure. But even as I feel the anger burning realisation washes over me putting it out, and I sag back from where I was listening against the bathroom wall to one of the beds. I don't know what to think now, I don't want to think. All I know is that it just may be all the positive feelings I received today were false….and it's going to start all over again. My mind flits back, back more than six years, and the insecurities, fears, inadequacies filter into my heart, where they'd lain dormant for the whole of my teenage life. Maybe I should stop running away, turn and defeat these shadowy sprites which taunt every time I'm weak or scared, but it takes more than I have now. Fears grow, doubts multiply. I have to get out of here, get Ash, and find what he really thinks. Then maybe, just maybe I can think of myself as a worthwhile person again. Without any conscious thought, my pale hand is opening the door, and my thin legs are carrying me the few paces to the room next door. My knuckles stop bare millimetres from the door, something compels me to listen. I press my ear to the door, a pang of guilt erased by suspicion and a desperate need to know, know if I'm worth something, anything. I can hear conversation from inside, and strain harder to try and pick it up….  
  
  
  
"Yeah, not much more to do. Just that leg, then the trim and final touches…." I put the pyjamas back down on the bed, and take in her pensive look. I remember why, she's wondering what it is I want her to do for me. Well, now she'll find out. "Chikorita, what I'd like you to do is come and sit on my lap, just for a moment, so I can explain this to you properly. Come on, don't be shy." I sink down onto the green bedspread, and after a meek look from her red eyes her leaf twitches in response and she climbs on.  
  
("So, what can I do for you?") She smiles, but I can see a current of nervousness beneath it.  
  
"Shh, calm down. There's no need for you to worry." The fact there's plenty of need for me I decide not to tell her. "Now, all I'd like you to do is, when I ask, give me your best sweet scent, for as long as possible. I want to see what happens…to me. And something will happen, what I don't know. There's no-one else to see me, and I want to, no, need to know. Then if there are any effects I can wait it out in here. So, would you let me give it a try?" I can see another stream of doubt flow through her. She hopes that this could do nothing, but deep down too knows something is going to happen.  
  
("I-I'm scared Ash….") She nuzzles into my stomach, and I hug her in response.  
  
"So am I, but it's better to know than to hope, don't you think?" She looks up at me with hazy eyes and swallows deeply, but nods. She can almost feel my fear radiating from my hands, but straightens up and takes a deep breath. I give the four blank walls, only ordained by a solitary window ajar to my left a brief glance, and close my eyes.  
  
("Just don't forget, please, you're you no matter how you appear….") She takes a final deep breath, and concentrates. A thick mist flows out of her leaf, and envelops me. I inhale slowly and regularly, and wait. Nothing seems to be happening. Nothing at all….sudden as lightning, my head begins to spin and I can feel my mind seeping into hysteria. The world flies out of focus; indistinct as shadows in the dusk, and I can feel my body slowly, agonisingly changing. First with my chest, changing as it has before. Then, my arms, my arms are growing long, and they suddenly look as if they're on fire, my chest is turning bright red, my body and shoulders are….aflame, my feet turning claw-like and my legs burning brightly, yet with a holy fire, a magical fire which doesn't scorch me, soothing as balm. I barely hear Chikorita squeak in shock and hurl herself under the bed, or smell the scorch of burning clothes as I let out an inhuman cry, from somewhere deep within. Now this….change is nearing completion, I just know it, and the world is oh so briefly wonderful, sight sharp as cut glass, hearing delicate as butterfly wings. I can almost feel life flowing around me, thoughts and dreams palpable as skin. But her scent has gone, wafting through the window, and slowly, slowly my human senses are returning, the flames dying away, sight and sound gently easing ghost-like back into my body. I close my eyes, and sink backwards onto the bed, just waiting and praying for the ordeal to end. I can still feel snatches of how it was to be….whatever I became for that briefest second, and now it taunts me as the awful, awful feeling I always felt during those brief changes piles into me with a vengeance. It's like sea, air and stomach sickness intertwined into almost exquisite agony, so painful and nauseous that it almost seems euphoric. Chikorita pokes her head out from under the bed at about the same time as another tidal wave of nausea overtakes me, and sprints out of the way as I throw my head over the edge of the bed and retch. Mistys voice shouting my name from behind the door permeates my consciousness, and I finally open my eyes to tiny slits, taking in Chikoritas fearful face and the smoke hanging heavily in the air.  
  
("Ash….look at your arms….") She gasps, and I cast a look along them, at which my eyes slam open to their full width. My arms are their normal length, yes, but they're a glorious red, and they are bedecked with rows of beautiful red, white and black feathers. As I watch, a few fall off, and settle on the bed, incongruous among the ashes which litter it. My chest is a downy red and white…. But quite beautiful. The shock pours icy water into my veins as the nausea returns, punctuated by hammering from the door and Misty calling me from outside. I lay down flat on my back, and try to keep my thoughts and emotions from erupting in an uncontrolled torrent while attempting to make some semblance of sense from what had just come to pass. I can feel something crawling up my stomach, and look down to see Chikorita in a petrified stupor just staring at me out of wide, rabbit-like eyes.  
  
("You were sheathed in flame, and then you screamed…I thought I was never going to see you again that I'd killed you….") She moaned, shaking wildly, eyes streaming with panicked tears. ("I thought I'd lost you….lost you….lost you forever…..") I push through the shock enough to reach out and pull her shivering form to me, and let her shed her tears into my arms.  
  
"I don't know what's happened to me, but I'm scared too, Chicory. I don't know if I can ever be the same, or what I might become…" She stopped her silent screams for just long enough to put her legs around me, letting me hug her like a doll.  
  
("But you're still here, with me…and I don't ever want it another way…") She gasped, before becoming embroiled in another bout of shaking, shaking I understood and felt keenly as ever. Who, or what am I? And what could I become? The hammering on the door suddenly slams into my skull migraine- like, added to by a female voice calling me, but knowledge and understanding are chained away and I draw myself into a foetal position clutching Chikorita yet more tightly, an almost primal fear creating a cocoon to crawl into. Gradually the knocking becomes more indistinct, the voice now joined by others vague, and darkness seeps, seeps like blood beneath a locked door into my consciousness, gradually wrapping me in a velvet blanket which I gratefully sink into, sink until I almost drown, and it carries me into the shadows. To where, I don't know….  
  
  
  
Hmmm, a bit of a cliffhanger there, sorry about that.  
  
Hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to review!  
  
C'ya soon with chapter IV  
  
Dan. 


	4. Smouldering eyes

I'm Ba-aack! This is an early warning, this it the longest chapter I've written so far, at over12,000 words, so make sure you've got plenty of time. I suppose if I'd split this into three chapters I'd get almost three times the reviews, but I like to keep the ebb and flow of a story going without breaks. Just personal preference.  
  
Now, a bit of early warning, there are occasions in this fanfic when you must remember who is talking to who – Misty and Brock can only understand Chikorita and Pikachu well, but not Cyndaquil or Totodile, so if it is in their perspective they will only hear the sounds the Pokemon makes, not the words they are saying.  
  
Big thanks and hugs to all reviewers, especially BigRed, Dragoness and Cultnirvava, you make my day, even my fortnight. Maybe my month. At least my season….well you get the idea! It really helps to keep me going, and as you're all fantastic writers yourselves it it makes it even better.  
  
Okay, here's this monster chapter! Don't forget to R&R of course, it'll take you forty times longer to read this than to review, so don't forget!  
  
  
  
Child of the Light One - Chapter IV  
  
  
  
:It has begun. It is now only a matter of days, maybe hours before my flames consume me, and then it is in the hands of fate, fate and fortune. I pray for fortune to smile on me. Perhaps the cycle will repeat itself, perhaps I will be reborn once again, and he will merely stay as he is, a human who can control fire, understand Pokemon and feel, sense the thoughts of others. He will learn all of these abilities nonetheless, if he is destined to take my place or no. What matters is if he is condemned to this endless cycle of life and rebirth, for there is no death in this existence, only brief pauses. I curse my selfishness, but do not wish to ignore it, for hell is eternal life, a hell I wish to exist in no longer. I would love it for him to become my daughter and companion, but although his powers will wax as mine do wane, there can only ever be one true Phoenix….:  
  
  
  
I can feel the heat radiate from him, as he slips deep into a comatose state, and know that I have to do something. The leaden weight of shock and fear are suspended by the need to ensure he is alright, he is going to live. His grip on me becomes lax, and his breathing slow. Frighteningly slow. I'd say from what I can judge he's around forty-five degrees….oh no. I heard from his own mouth only a month ago that most people die if their temperature gets into the forties. Struggling out of his clutches and clearing away the lingering cobwebs of doubt spun by the event I'd just witnessed, I tried to work out what to do, anything to cool him down. A hammering on the door followed by mixed voices all calling for us rules out the idea of leaving the room. His bag catches my eye as an idea hatches, and I quickly pull out two Pokeballs. A punch of the two buttons brings out a sleepy Cyndaquil and an ever-hyperactive Totodile.  
  
("Hey!") Totodile moves to jump onto the bed, but the smoke and a huddled red figure on it catches his eye. ("What's with the smoke? And who's that?") He looks down his snout at me, while Cyndaquil drowsily raises his nose and cautiously sniffs the air.  
  
("This smell, it's a smell I should recognise….It's got something to do with fire, and not just the fact there's smoke…") I look Totodile in the eye, trying to not let a tear slip from mine.  
  
("That is….Ash.") His jaw drops, before he takes a step back, head shaking frantically.  
  
("No. Y-you're lying. It's covered in red down, it can't be!")  
  
("Red down? Feathers?!") Cyndaquil, who hasn't seen him yet, leaps onto the bed and gasps. ("Ash, the chosen one, and the feathers of…of….") He loses his voice, eyes dropping to the mattress on which he still lays.  
  
("Feathers? Ash? What the hell happened here?") Totodile, with none of his normal reckless abandon, looks back at me. ("C'mon, tell us!") He looks angry as I've ever seen him, but I force myself to reply with as much restraint as I can muster.  
  
("That can wait. What can't wait is he's hot, burning hot. We have to cool him down. Please, just sprinkle some water on him and I can tell you then.") Without hesitation he's on the bed beside Ashs still form, and dousing him with a fine mist. Cyndaquil just looks lost in thought as I pull myself up beside the two of them, trying to group my thoughts into some semblance of order, as difficult as catching fog in a butterfly net.  
  
("You know Ash has been acting different?") Totodile nods, still embroiled in his effort to cool Ash, while Cyndaquil is still unresponsive. But I know he's listening, and hard. If any of us is smart enough to work it out it's him. ("Well he told me today, and showed me, that he changes physically when under stress. He grows…his chest grows. Like Mistys, you know?") What an inappropriate time to feel embarrassed, my cheeks glow slightly and I almost slap myself. Too much travelling around with teenagers must rub off on me….I notice Totodile giving me a furious look and continue. ("It also happens when he's exposed to things like Pikachus electricity or strong Pokemon scents…")  
  
("Did he mention any….interest in fire?") Cyndaquil thoughtfully interjects, still not meeting anyone's eyes.  
  
("Yes! He kept saying he saw things, images.") I wait for another question, but he's gone back into his shell.  
  
("Go on, what happened today?") Totodile gargles, now spraying his back.  
  
("He asked me to concentrate my sweet scent and send it at him. He said he knew something would happen, but didn't know what. So I did, and…and…") The memories rise, my greatest companion writhing, consumed by fire, letting out such a wild cry, and grab me by the throat. I choke on my own words, but this time Totodile sees the tear marks scrawled across my face and doesn't push me, just drops his gaze and continues his misting.  
  
("What. It's absolutely vital you tell me what went on next.") A dry sob escapes from me as I turn to Cyndaquil, who is the last one I expected to push me. But his normally gentle eyes are burning with intensity, his laconic voice terse as a bowstring.  
  
("It w-was t-tt-terrible…") I'm crying now, I can feel it. But I don't care, it seems so distant as I fall back into a haze of recollection. ("H- he burst into flame…He made this strange cry, nothing I-Ive ever h-heard before, and from the flame came these….") Through my tearful vision I pick out two feathers, one red, one black, and give them to him. The gasp he makes is enough for me, and I dissolve into shuddering sobs.  
  
("Totodile, he is…") He looks stunned, almost awe-struck. Totodile himself is looking over Ash with shimmering eyes, only broken by Cyndaquil calling his name.  
  
("What? Do you know what is wrong with him?") He growls, still unable to comprehend what he is seeing.  
  
("He is…the child of the Phoenix….") He mutters, reverent to the point of prayer.  
  
("Phoenix?!") This sounds wrong somehow, as if it was spoken by more than me and Totodile…  
  
("Pikachu! Don't say a goddamn word!") Cyndaquil screams as he realises Pikachu is listening outside the door, and while Misty can't hear us she can understand every word from Pikachus mouth. Quick thinking by Cyndaquil there, Misty can't understand him. Just then, we hear Brocks voice accompanied by another voice….Nurse Joy….  
  
("Get him under the covers! Fast!") I cry to the other two, as the reality clicks. Barely a second before the lock. By way of my vines and Totodiles agility we draw a spare blanket over him and Cyndaquil, for some reason, lights his flame.  
  
"Ash! What's happened?" Misty lunges into the room, Pikachu at her feet, a worried Brock and confused Joy holding a keycard behind them.  
  
("God, what's with the smoke?") Pikachu coughs, before sniffing the air more cautiously.  
  
("Stop Misty!") I parry her advance with my vines, and search frantically for an answer. ("He saw…that legendary Pokemon out of the window, and it let out its call before flashing away in the blink of an eye.")  
  
("He called us out in case he needed to defend himself.") Totodile adds from his seat beside me.  
  
("Then, he just collapsed, I think he's got a fever. The shock and the fever must have overwhelmed him.") It's the best truth I can think of at such short notice.  
  
"It's odd to get a legendary Pokemon sitting on your window sill." Misty replies with blatant cynicism, and to my horror, crouches down and looks closely at Ash before putting her hand to his head. The moment she does her eyes widen, and cheeks blanche with shock. "Jesus Brock, he's burning up!" The phrase innocently spoken by Misty makes me flinch, and I can feel Pikachus gaze become suspicious. Meanwhile, Brock moves over to the bed and puts his palm to Ashs head, and he blinks with surprise.  
  
"This is beyond a fever, I've never felt a person get this hot." He moves out of the way as Joy moves in for a closer look. She holds her hand to his head and takes in the slow breathing, and then grasps the blanket….  
  
("No!") My vine winds tightly around her wrist, and she jerks away in surprise. ("He's got nothing on, he was half-way through changing!") I squeal, shuddering at how accurate the statement actually is. ("You know how shy he is!") Misty rapidly translates for Joy, and her face darkens several shades.  
  
"Sorry, but he looks like he needs medical help." I briskly shake my head in a "No" gesture.  
  
("We'll look after him, if he's no better later we'll tell you.") Meanwhile, Brock is looking at the smoke, and a few ashes which have fallen to the side of the bed.  
  
"How did this get here?" He asks the room, voice laced with puzzlement. Cyndaquil in reply lets out an apologetic squeak, while looking sheepishly at the floor. "Oh, I see." Good thinking Cyndaquil.  
  
"I want to stay here…." Misty begins, laying a tender arm on his Ashs sleeping form.  
  
("No, let us see to him. You go and relax.") I put as much reassurance as I can muster into my voice, but I can still see the doubt painted into her eyes.  
  
("Misty, you can't do anything here.") Pikachu stuns me by jumping right in. ("I'd say you and Brock should go and relax, and he can get ready for his date. I'm sure he'll be ready and raring to go by tonight.") Her tone leaves no room for argument, and Brock and Joy slowly leave the room. Misty falters, but the serious looks on our faces is persuasion enough. Like the final leaf leaving a tree in autumn, she slowly drifts out of the door, and out of sight. Soon as the door clicks shut Pikachu rounds on us, scarlet cheeks sparking.  
  
("Okay you lot, start talking!") She looks consumed by fury, fury extinguished by Cyndaquil in the space of a heartbeat.  
  
("He is the child of the Phoenix.") A few little words, a cataclysmic change in her mood, contrast from black to white.  
  
("No….that's a myth, a legend….") She's backing away, shaking her head. She seems….scared? Disbelieving?  
  
("Legend doesn't mean it's not true.") Cyndaquil looks down at the sleeping form, still as if he is some precious jewel.  
  
("But it's Ash….he can't be….he can't….") She backs away more, ears flattened. ("He's human! I've known him for more than six years….") Totodile snorts at her rejections, and swiftly pulls the blankets away. The gasp from Pikachus lips is enough.  
  
("NOW will you stop ignoring it?") He snarls, irritated by her constant denials. We all look over him, he's still encased in red down over his breast, arms and legs, the flight feathers strewn around him.  
  
("A-ash?") She squeaks in barely a whisper. He stirs a little, begins breathing a little more easily.  
  
("Now I know what he meant.") I know I thought that aloud, but it's suddenly so clear, clear what he was trying to explain to me.  
  
("What who meant?") Cyndaquil called, from where he'd huddled against Ashs neck.  
  
("Ash meant. He told me he didn't want any people to find out what was wrong, and Pikachu has shown me why.") Pikachu clicks back into reality at the sound of her voice.  
  
("What do you mean?")  
  
("He didn't want Misty or Brock to know. Know there is something wrong. He tried to explain to me that humans despise what they misunderstand. You, you've been out with him so long you think like a human, and you've panicked, tried to deny reality. I've accepted it now, and these two had no qualms at all, but you're like someone who has been stung. Imagine what would happen if Misty were to find out….") By the end of my explanation Pikachu has her eyes cast away in shame and Totodile is deep in thought. I can't resist it, I feel the need to put her through the wringer for her response take control. ("So are you going to abandon him now?") Cyndaquils eyes flick up and Totodile, with unusual presence of mind, looks ready to jump in.  
  
("I never would!") But there's guilt there, in the very core of her heart. And I feel this need, this irrational need to punish it.  
  
("Like hell! The only thing that stopped you running away the moment you found your beloved Ash was different was shock, else you would have been out of that door!") She backs away as I advance, bewildered.  
  
("I would stand by him, as I always have…") She protests, but I cut her off.  
  
("Bullshit! You're just like Ayla!") Her eyes and cheeks sparkle with fury at the denunciation.  
  
("You never, ever compare me to her you bitch….") Her voice now the honeyed purr of glistening menace.  
  
("Why? Are you afraid of the similarities I might find?") We're edging closer to each other, lines of sight fringed by red.  
  
("Don't dare, don't even dare….") Her cheeks sparkle brightly, and I feel every muscle in me tense in anticipation….  
  
("Shut up! BOTH of you!") Totodile leaps between us, and I unconsciously square up to him. ("And if you're thinking of making an issue of it Chikorita, just remember who's behind me. Ash, who doesn't need any more hassle, and Cyndaquil who will roast you alive if he gets it.") The red mist fades as I look past him to a nervous but determined Cyndaquil and the silent face of my trainer. I can feel shame seeping into me, shame at being so heartless, so reckless.  
  
("I wasn't being like her at all! I would never, ever betray him! I was just….scared. No, I was terrified, and I'm sorry…") Pikachus distress echoes the way I felt, the fear consuming me when he burst into flame before my eyes. Fear which slams back into me with the force of a diesel train, and I can feel my legs fold, the sweet caress of the blankets as I sink into them, the tears burning trails of liquid fire down my face, the scream tearing to get out….three pairs of arms embrace me, and I look up through wet eyes to see Cyndaquil looking at me with smouldering compassion.  
  
("Come on Chikorita, it's okay. I know it's hit you harder than any of us, he burst into flames in front of you.") His gentle embrace has the power to extinguish the scream which wrenched at me, now sucked into a vacuum and disposed silently.  
  
("Yeah, and don't think being like a human is such a bad thing. Pokemon aren't that dissimilar to them, shock and sorrow sound the same no matter what the language you express them in.") Pikachu. How could I have gone at her like that. She's right, exactly right. And she's accepted Ash already, I can see it in her eyes as she moves around, moves so she's stood in front of me.  
  
("I-I'm so sorry…I should never ha-have said those things…I'm not worthy of your attention….") I close my red-rimmed eyes, and feel her sit down in front of me, just waiting for me to open them again. I don't know if I want to, every time I see Ash I see him burning, when I look at Pikachu I remember what I said to her…  
  
("Come on Chikorita, we need ideas.") I feel Pikachu wipe away the streaks of wetness from my face, and I slowly crane around to see Totodile, gazing at the silent form with a thoughtful look.  
  
("Why?") Pikachu gets up from her seat in front of me, and walks over to him.  
  
("I can't keep spraying him down forever you know.") He replies, idly scratching his snout.  
  
("Chikorita, how's about getting him to a shower?") Cyndaquil, still beside me, whispers. Why didn't I think of that? Emotion clouds thought with the effectiveness of mist across a meadow.  
  
("Great idea. He told me he's had little things like this before and the feathers came off in the shower.") He looks at me intently for the briefest moment, before calling across to the others.  
  
("Hey, why don't we get him to a shower? All we have to do is work out which one.") Pikachu and Totodile glance at each other, before nodding.  
  
("The only choice is the one down the corridor, where he was this morning.") I put in, and smile as Cyndaquil gives me a confirming pat.  
  
("I don't think I'm going to be able to help carrying him, though. I'm not as good upright as the others, and don't have your vines….") he looks so woebegone that I feel selfish for bringing attention to myself earlier.  
  
("Hey, we have to work as a team. We need someone to check out the way ahead, make sure the room is clear, open and shut the doors and keep a hold of the key.") He looks back up, and slowly gives me a gentle smile, which makes it feel worthwhile.  
  
("Thanks, I'm just being foolish aren't I?") I can feel my face colour, and look down at the bed, mumbling something about of course not.  
  
("When you two are finished…") I look back around to see a pair of staring faces, the yellow one wearing a slight grin, the blue one bemusement.  
  
("Yep, finished here.") Cyndaquil sounds completely unruffled. ("Now, give me the key, and I'll go check the room is empty. Oh yeah, and don't forget to make sure you bring the blanket too, I've heard how much he cherishes his privacy….") He almost skips from the bed and, after grabbing the key, heads for the door. A few slightly embarrassing attempts later, he stops and turns to us. ("Is there a knack to this thing?") It's all I can do to avoid giggling like a schoolgirl as Pikachu hops down and shows him the leap-hang-kick door opening technique, before he makes his way from the room. Amazing, if I'd fallen over four times in a row whilst trying to open a door I'd have probably hidden in the chest of drawers out of embarrassment, but he just kept getting up and trying again, and when he did get it open he still looked unbothered. We wait in pensive silence until we here someone jump up to the handle on the other side of the now shut door. A couple of seconds, and a soft thump. The thump of him falling onto the floor.  
  
("You put the key in first!") Pikachu calls, and again I can feel a smile tug at my mouth. It took me a week to get used to doors, and three to get used to not laying directly behind one.  
  
("Come 'ere…..gotcha!") The door swings open….about a centimetre before shutting again, and a soft thump from the other side suggests Cyndaquil is probably feeling like he's got Déjà vu about now. A couple more seconds, sounds of movement, and this time the door swings open about a foot. He dives through the gap, key in his mouth, before it clicks shut again. ("No problem! The room is vacant, I can't hear anyone in lobby either.") I sigh in relief, and wrap my vines around Ashs waist, before jumping down from the bed and easing him to its edge. Totodile grasps his legs and Pikachu his chest as he slips off completely, and Cyndaquil pops the door open. He casts a final look down the hall before nodding to us and pushing it open wide. As we edge through the door I laugh suddenly, it's just occurred to me how this would look to a human who can't see any of us. He'd just see a boy floating past, blankets sliding on the floor either side of him and apparently fast asleep. Be a bit of a shock I imagine. The three of us shuffle cautiously down the corridor to the common room doorway, and I hear Cyndaquil repeat his trick. Pikachu leads us in, and I catch a glimpse of the sofa she'd had an altercation with earlier in the day as she steers us to the male bathroom. I just see Cyndaquil, casual as always, leap up to the handle….  
  
("…We got a problem.")  
  
("Huh?") Totodile and I share a blank look.  
  
("It's locked, must be occupied.") Ah. Pikachu looks thoughtful.  
  
("Only one thing for it.") She craned her head to look up at Cyndaquil, still clutching the male bathroom door handle. ("Check if the ladies is occupied, and quick. My arms are getting tired fast.") Cyndaquil flashes through my vision as he lands and springs off to my right. Another leap, a click…  
  
("It's empty.") I hear Pikachu sigh in relief, and she steers us to the other door. We shuffle through into the bathroom, and gratefully set him down against the pinkish tiles. It's beyond me why they always put pink and peach in ladies bathrooms around these places, logic says there must be some reason but for the love of god I can't find it.  
  
("Get him into the bath.") Totodile gestures, indicating the shower attachment is part of the bath.  
  
("We're going to have to pull him up.") Pikachu puts in, giving it an appraising look. ("We're not tall enough to put him in from down here.") I instantly get up onto the side of the bath, and wrap my vines securely around his waist.  
  
("I'll do it, I'll drag him up. Just hold onto the sheet while I pull, we don't want it getting soaked so its best if we take it off him now.") In response, Totodile grabs the sheet, while Pikachu hops up beside me to lend a hand. A click causes us to both look up hurriedly, and gasp in relief to see Cyndaquil hanging off the lock. Another sharp piece of thinking.  
  
("Ready?") I brace myself the best I can, and nod. Then, I pull cautiously, and he slowly slides over the side of the bath and into it. Totodile is already on the way to the taps, and as I watch he turns the cold tap full on…the water thundering out of the tap itself and smashing into his face.  
  
("Turn it to shower! The lever on the right!") Pikachu calls from beside me, and he responds with a swift kick to it. The spray lands right on his chest, and I can see it steam slightly. But it's working, he's looking more comfortable and, as I watch, he turns a little onto one side, sighing deeply. Relief floods through my system, and I sag slowly down until I'm laying on the side of the bath, just watching in silence.  
  
("Is it working?") Cyndaquil appears to my left, nervous eyes watching the water. I can understand why, he's scared of running water, always has been.  
  
("Looks like it.") As I speak a handful of scarlet feathers detach from his chest, and float off into the rest of the water. He gives a tiny, relieved groan, and settles down to watch.  
  
("But there is another problem.") He adds in a calm voice, a calm voice which has the instant attention of the rest of us.  
  
("And that is?") Totodile asks quietly, listening.  
  
("Just a moment ago, I heard someone come into the common room. And it sounds like they've brought the television from their room with them….") The only sounds in the whole room are the hissing of the shower, the spattering of the water as it hits Ash, and our breathing….and there, barely discernible, the sound of a chat show….and a nervous sigh, a sigh I know very well.  
  
("Misty, yes?") I nod without looking at Pikachu, before we simultaneously groan.  
  
("Brocks kicked her out so he can finish getting ready. Which means she'll be here for about an hour…") Brock is normally meticulous about getting ready to go out, and tonight, when he's meeting up with Suzy, will be no exception.  
  
("….So we're stuck") She finishes for me.  
  
("And we have to be quiet, she knows someone is in here, but if she knows its us…") This is getting better and better. To my surprise, Cyndaquil hops down and settles on the floor, looking back up at us.  
  
("So, anyone for truth or dare?")  
  
  
  
("What?!") It's all I can do to not scream with laughter. It all seems so surreal, sitting here in a bathroom with Ash still unconscious under the shower, being told by Totodile about the time he tried to give a Marril a love bite. He's just proven why it's not a good idea when you have more sharp teeth than a chainsaw.  
  
("Well how was I to know?") He's well embarrassed now, which doesn't help my attempts to keep silent. Cyndaquil is sniggering to my left, and Chikorita is currently biting her leaf in a valiant attempt to mute herself.  
  
("Sounds like you were a bit of a Romeo in your youth, nice to see you've matured…") Cyndaquils dry comments aren't helping me any either. I've known what Totodile is like for a while, his personality stamps itself on you instantly, but Cyndaquil has been an enigma for a long time. It's only over the last hour I've come to appreciate his dry humour and breezy outlook, not to matter his exceptional wits once he's fully awoken. Judging by Chikoritas average centre of attention she's noticed it too, and is intrigued. Scratch that, she's infatuated.  
  
"Uuuuuhn…." A faint groan, barely discernible above the still running water destroys the communal atmosphere instantly, as Chikorita spins on a sixpence. "Wha? Wh-why am I so wet? Okay guys, this a really bad joke….normally you only put the hand in water Brock…." In a flash I'm up the side of the bath, and down onto him, trying frantically to shush him. Misty must already be suspicious that the shower has been running a hour, she must think someone is trying to drown themselves without putting the plug in. Slowly, his hazel eyes open and dazedly focus on me. "P-Pikachu?" I put a finger to my lips slowly, and after a second he closes his mouth. I can see questions building up within, especially as those eyes of brown slowly take in the surroundings. He knows where he is, the peach and pink décor make it obvious. The eyes travel slowly along the edge of the bath where the others are watching, first Cyndaquil cutely poking this head over the side wearing a broad smile, Totodlie grinning like only he can, and then…. "I'm sorry." Chikorita, red eyes filling with fresh tears.  
  
("Don't be.") Her voice is a bare crackle, static-like. ("It's not your fault, why must you think that way?") He looks down, away from her.  
  
"But I scared you so much, just because I was too nosy to let well alone." He's confused himself, perhaps he's even slightly delirious.  
  
("Ash, if curiosity is such a sin, then strike me down where I stand.") I force him to look at me, cupping his chin in my paws. ("the most important thing is we're all still here, and together.") I can feel how corny that must have sounded, but as I look at my reflection in the black pupil, framed by hazel, I can tell it's worked.  
  
"Excuse me, but there are others in this centre who want to use the facilities you know!" An irate female voice echoes into the room, definitely spoken by an equally irate red head whose curiosity has outweighed her patience.  
  
("Uh? There's a toilet in our room!") Chikorita gives me a puzzled look, which I reply to by rolling my eyes at the ceiling.  
  
("She wants to know who's taking so long! She's heard talking, and wants to know what's going on.")  
  
("So whadda we do?!") She looks like panicking, not thinking things through as usual.  
  
("The only thing we can do, tell her the truth. Tell her why we're here, and what we're doing. Ash has lost all traces of his transformation now, so we pretend we just brought him here to cool him off. It's the main reason anyway.") Totodile suggests, shrugging.  
  
("I'll go with that.") Cyndaquil nods his affirmation.  
  
"What if she asks what I'm doing in the girls bathroom? Come to think of it, what am I doing here?" Ash puts in, slowly pulling himself up and trying to avoid the whirlpool of nausea dragging at him.  
  
("Truth again. The gents was occupied and he needed to be cooled down quick.") Totodile has got the idea.  
  
("Remember, no bluffs. We all know the reasons, if we start inventing any we'll make mistakes.") I hop out of the bath, and run over to the door. Taking a deep breath, I leap up and twist the lock, and go flying backwards as Misty shoves the door open.  
  
"Okay, what's going on…?" The sentence tails off as her eyes first take in me on the floor looking royally pissed at the unwanted flying lesson I'd just received, then to Chikorita and Totodile perched on the side of the bath, and then Ash looking dazed under the still running cold shower with Cyndaquil perched protectively on his chest. On his chest…I should give Cyndaquil a medal for foresight, Ash hasn't returned to normal that way yet.  
  
"What the hell? Ash, you pervert!" She almost shrieks the last word, although I'm not sure if she's that shocked or if she just wants to make a bit of a scene, to make him notice her. Well, with the way my ears are ringing he can't have failed to. She struts past me, and looks down at him.  
  
"Uh, hi." He looks sheepish, not surprisingly. That turns to bashfulness, and Chikorita looks ready to slap her. I can't blame her for giving him the once-over now, she probably feels she has the right, being on her turf with him in the wrong. I suppose Ash is simultaneously glad and embarrassed he hasn't changed….in that way yet. What the hell am I thinking?! I'm supposed to be explaining this away, and I'm theorising on how Ash feels to have his potential girlfriend staring at him from a few feet. Bet he wishes the water wasn't cold….someone slap me! Misty finally realises she's staring, and decides she can only get away with her bout of voyeurism for so long.  
  
"Care to explain, maybe you're going to suggest this isn't what it looks like?" She places her hands on hips, and cocks her head in a typical "I'm waiting" pose.  
  
"Don't ask me, I was unconscious." The quiet response. It's thrown her completely, her hands slip from her hips, and she glances at Chikorita to her left.  
  
("Uh, he was getting hotter, so we brought him down here to cool him off.") She begins, at first faltering but becoming more confident.  
  
("We tried the gents, but it was locked so we had to bring him in here.") Cyndaquil adds, still lain over Ashs chest, trying to ignore the thorough soaking he's receiving.  
  
"Why didn't you knock our door and put him in our shower?" Although Cyndaquils comment passes her by, Misty has the other three stumped so I jump in.  
  
("Brock was using the bathroom.") She cranes around to look at me, and out of her sight Totodile gives me the thumbs up.  
  
"Okay….but why wouldn't you let me in?" She walked into the trap.  
  
("What, with him….you know?") She blushes the colour of a cherry grove, trying to avoid everyone's eyes. It's taken time, but embarrassment has finally slapped her cheeks, leaving them rosy. I guess she's realised it's never a good idea to check someone out, even if they are giving you a blatant opportunity.  
  
("Judging by earlier, you know fully that he's you know.") Totodile sniggers at Chikoritas wry comment, leaving Misty with a face now reminiscent of a tomato.  
  
"Maybe she's besotted by my wonderful figure?" Ashs lingering comment added to by a coy wink almost makes her pass out from embarrassment. He's almost dying from embarrassment himself, being watched like that, but he can't resist a chance to joke either.  
  
("Hey Misty, could you go and get Ash some clothes?") Chikorita asks, clearly wanting to get her, well, out.  
  
("No, you go get him some Chikorita.") She looks ready to dispute Cyndaquils request, but he gives her a definite look. One which screams that debate is not an option. Ah. He's just won another medal. If she goes into the room and sees those feathers, the mess the room is in…judging by the look on Chikoritas face she's just worked this out too.  
  
("Okay.")  
  
("Get something loose, it'll keep him cool.") And fit his figure. Cyndaquil is going to be treated like a king after this, that's three times in a minute he's covered our backs now. Chikorita scuttles past Misty, gives me a knowing wink, and leaves.  
  
"Uh, sorry Ash…." Something hard to define shimmers in Mistys speech, almost like guilt. Maybe combined with desire?  
  
"It's okay. But you can do me a favour…" She moves closer, keenly listening. "…let me change in private, you know I'm more than a little shy." She almost falls flat on her face, and I can't fight the urge to giggle. Meanwhile, Totodile has turned the water off, for which the soaked Cyndaquil gives him a "Queel" of thanks.  
  
"Yeah, I'll uh, leave you alone. But I'll be waiting outside in case you try passing out on us again, you hear?" He takes her comment with a gentle smile.  
  
"Yeah, thanks Misty." She reluctantly turns around and strolls out of the door, pulling it slightly behind her. I finish the job by kicking it shut, a little more firmly than I would have liked.  
  
("Cyndaquil, you are a god!") Totodile hops down beside me as Cyndaquil pulls his bedraggled form out of the bath, and tries to shake the water off, with little success.  
  
("Nah, I just did what needed to be done.") He shrugs modestly, dark eyes on the door. ("I'm just wondering if Chikorita will remember towels.")  
  
"It's no problem if she didn't, they're over there on the towel rail." Ash pulls himself up slowly, nodding to one side of the bathroom beside the sink.  
  
("Uh, that would make it irrelevant, yes.") He walks over, cranes up onto tiptoes to grab one, and does. This is followed by a surprised squeak, a split-second of frantic scrabbling and a cascade of peach, and finally by a pile of towels where Cyndaquil was. It's enough for Totodile to almost break into a tap-dance, and more than enough to have me eating the floor tiles. Ash smiles as he wetly walks over to the shuddering heap and pulls the towels off him.  
  
"Takes practise to be domesticated, doesn't it?" He adds with a winsome grin.  
  
("It took me about five tries to open a door!") Cyndaquil chuckles, and to my surprise Ash chuckles as well. Cyndaquil looks like he expected it, though.  
  
("Ash, how can you understand him? He hasn't been with you like I have.") I gaze up at him, and can see him thinking. In the end he just shakes his head, puzzlement clear to see.  
  
"Don't know. But didn't you notice I understood Vulpix this morning? Somehow, it all seems familiar."  
  
("It's all part of being the child of the Phoenix…") My eyes flick back up to Ash to see him freeze. Eventually he gains enough control to hesitantly whisper a few words.  
  
"Ch-child of the w-h-a-t?" Cyndaquil peers up at him, face lined by concern.  
  
("Didn't you know yourself?")  
  
"No…I knew nothing…" Ashs eyes betray the quiet tone of his voice, they are framed in the midst of a scream.  
  
("It's a legend taught to all fire types, and many other Pokemon by their parents. But surely…") He finally sees his face, and frowns. ("No, you didn't know. But you have to have been told, else you wouldn't be unable to understand…")  
  
("I'm baa-aack!") Chikorita struts into the room, and deposits some clothes on the floor. This seems to shock Ash back into consciousness, and he sifts through the pile.  
  
("Misty?") I ask her.  
  
("Sitting on the sofa, straining her ears with every muscle she has.") As expected.  
  
"Chikorita, I love the aesthetically pleasing green motif…" Ash begins, with a tiny smile, "…but you forgot something didn't you?"  
  
("Eh?")  
  
"You know I have a nice pair of green boxer shorts which would have gone with this lot." She blushes, and I resist the opportunity to ask her "Now who's acting human?"  
  
("Well, you did, but you kinda….torched them about an hour ago.") Fair enough.  
  
"Ah well, these'll do. Shame you couldn't get something out of Mistys bottom drawer too, it's going to be a while until I fully get back to normal tonight. By the way, I didn't burn your pyjamas did I?" Pyjamas? Chikorita shakes her head, leaf flapping lazily with it.  
  
("No, you set them aside before we began.") He looks relieved, she looks happy. I probably look irritated  
  
("Care to develop on that statement?") I twitch my tail in mild annoyance, it irks me when Ash doesn't tell me something. A little like Misty, in fact.  
  
"She asked my to make her pyjamas." He replies, dropping voice to a murmur. Probably doesn't want Misty hearing. "The offer is open to anyone else who wants some, it's a bit of a hobby." Interesting.  
  
("Shall we go out? She'll be coming in soon otherwise.") Totodile points out, and to unanimous nods of approval. Pyjamas hmmmm? Maybe I'll ask him for a pair.  
  
  
  
I look up as the others come into the room, a red-faced Misty leading an equally flush Ash, and grin. I wonder if I should tell them that they look like a pair of matching stop lights, but I don't need Tracey to tell me sarcasm is not a good idea. A quick look at Ash is enough, it looks like embarrassment and fear are fighting a pitched battle, with no-one gaining ground fast. It does surprise me a little to see Totodile and Cyndaquil follow him in after them, Cyndaquil looking more than a touch damp.  
  
"Having fun people?" Okay, sarcasm is off limits, but I can risk a little irony.  
  
"I bet she was…." Ash grumbles, drawing a murderous glance from one of his female companions and titters from the others. Cyndaquil murmurs something, and the titters explode into gales of laughter. Misty looks confused, but Ash looks like he heard them. The fact that he spins around and gives Cyndaquil the sort of glare Medusa would have looked away from. "Care to repeat that?"  
  
"Cynda-cynda-cynda-quiiiieeeel!" For some reason, this makes him turn to the consistency of mush, and more thunderclouds drift over Ashs face.  
  
"Cyn cynda cynda queel." Uh….my eyes centre on him at exactly the same moment as every other eye, brown, blue or red does in the entire room. He shifts a little, puzzled and ever so slightly nervous. "Uh, what's the problem guys?"  
  
"Care to repeat what you just said?" Mistys aqua eyes portray her puzzlement clearly as the tone of her voice.  
  
"I said, uh, it's a good thing I owe you one." Cyndaquil seems to relax while the others keep staring at him.  
  
("Ash, could you tell me the first line of that….thing you told me earlier? You know, outside the perfume shop?") I don't know what Chikorita means by that, but after a moment he nods.  
  
"Uh, if I must….Shall I compare thee to a summers day?" Okay, he sounded normal.  
  
("Are you sure?") She pushes.  
  
("Of course, you saying I'm wrong?") He replies flippantly, in a carbon copy of Chikoritas speech. This time, he catches that what he said and how it sounded didn't match. "….Oh shit." He looks like he's been slapped, sinking down on the bed with a suddenly pale face and shaken eyes.  
  
"Cynda queel, cynda-aquil. Cynda…." Somehow, whatever Cyndaquil says reassures him, and he looks down at him.  
  
"Cyn, cynda….da queel, cynda cyndaqueel…" Cyndaquil just shakes his head and leaps up into his lap, where he cranes up to Ashs ear and starts whispering, with him occasionally replying under his breath.  
  
("Well excuuuuse me!") Chikorita scowls, obviously abashed that she isn't being let in on the conversation.  
  
"Cynda, cynda queel." Cyndaquil replies calmly, sending Pikachu, Totodile and Chikorita into fits, two of laughter, one of anger.  
  
"Wha? Whassat?" Pikachu turns to Misty, and smiles.  
  
("He said "fine, you're excused."") Misty giggles, which doesn't exactly help Chikoritas mood any. Well much as I would like to watch this potential domestic dispute heat up, time is calling.  
  
"Anyhow guys I'm afraid I must be off, don't want to keep a lady waiting!" I get slowly to my feet, and brush some imaginary dust off my loose black shirt, before giving myself a final look down. Shimmery black shirt, dark trousers and black shoes, yup, all set. I can't believe I'm going on a genuine date, a date with an old flame. It's a dozen Christmases all drawn into one night….  
  
"Lemmie get this straight Brock. Black shoes, dark trousers, white socks?" The bubble I'm floating in bursts abruptly, replaced by echoes of Mistys sarcastic voice. In the bat of an eyelid my shoes are off, and I'm burrowing through my bag to find a black pair that don't smell like they've been worn by the London marathon winner before being passed on to a pig farmer, and then borrowed by a sewage worker before somehow falling into my bag.  
  
"Hang on, I've got some special ones in my room." Ash breaks off from the whispered conversation, and gives me a wink as he says "special". Read special as hand-made. He takes the key from Chikorita, and hurries from the room. For some reason, an uneasy, pensive silence descends as soon as he is gone, only breaking as he re-enters, tossing a pair of black socks at me. Well, socks is a misnomer to be honest. "Double-looped cotton and nylon cross-weave and padded by a wool lining. Perfect for people who want to dance all night. Not being a twenty-four hour party person, I haven't worn them yet." I return the wink, and pull them on, followed by my shoes. Standing up, I stretch slowly and take a deep breath.  
  
"Thanks Ash, you're a pal. These make me feel like I'm walking on air." I do my best gliding walk over to the door, and pull it open. "Okay guys, don't wait up!" With that, I let the door shut behind me, and start the now seemingly infinite walk to the Noctowl Café, for what could be the best night of my life.  
  
  
  
One, the Phoenix is a god of all Pokemon, for all eternity it shall live.  
  
Two, there can only be one true Phoenix.  
  
Three, the only the Phoenix itself can select a child, a successor.  
  
Four, there are five stages of transformation. Seeing, sensing, speaking, feeling and controlling. Seeing images, sensing moods, understanding and speaking Pokemon, feeling the thoughts and ideas of others, and finally being able to control the elements, fire, wind and water at a whim.  
  
Five, the dying Phoenix and child will meet on the night of the passing, where destiny will decide.  
  
The five laws of the Phoenix, taught to me by Cyndaquil, chase each other through my head, and I'm unable to rest. I know I'm through the third stage of transformation, and I'm scared. Petrified. I'd asked him if I would still be myself, if it could be reversed, how it would be decided, and he said it had never been discovered, only the Phoenix itself knows. My fidgeting is starting to irk Misty, who has had enough of the whispers and tense silence.  
  
"How the hell did you know that bollocks about double-looped cotton etcetera? And how the hell did you afford them?" Her gaze has turned hard again. She'd been fussing and talking about nothing in particular for hours, trying to draw me into some argument or another. Almost four hours in fact. It's rapidly approaching darkness outside, and her whole afternoon and evening thus far has been filled with the usual time-killing pastimes. For example, watching rubbish and talking exactly the same. At least the atmosphere has relaxed with that outburst, I'm trying my utmost to forget my current predicament, and Misty is trying to forget the incident in the bathroom. So far, we haven't had too much success. Also, she's getting suspicious by the way I keep drawing my knees to my chin to hide my torso, which is showing no signs of reverting.  
  
"Well, my mum does a lot of needlework, imagine having to look after me for so many years? And two, since I paid you back for the bike I do have a little money for luxuries…." Ah yes the day I paid her back. We'd arrived in Cerulean for her fourteenth, and in addition to a Gyarados and the silver Seaking pendant, I got her the bike. A vision of blue and gold. Chrome wheels, hydraulic disc brakes, modern gear system, the works. It's a good thing I was a successful trainer at that point, and had battle and advertising money rolling in from victory in Orange, Johto and Indigo. The time I lost in the final of the Johto Masters was only my second tournament loss in six years.  
  
"…Yeah, maybe…." I can see her eyes glaze over, and know she's mired in the same reminiscence. From the moment she set eyes on it she was speechless. For about two days I couldn't detach her from the saddle. But the third day after her birthday I had to go back to Pallet to see my mother, who at the time had cancer, now thankfully in remission. She was about to go under an intensive period of treatment, and although she assured me Sam Oak would look after her, there was no way I wasn't going to be there, come hell or high water. But Misty got angry, then tearful when she realised she couldn't persuade me to stay. I hadn't told her why, it would have spoiled her birthday, but I could see it was tearing at her, she didn't want to leave me, but her pride was making it difficult for her to admit it. So I asked her to come, told her it wouldn't be the same without her, which it wouldn't be. It's a good thing I was starting to change emotionally then, else we may have gone our separate ways.  
  
("Hel-lo?") Pikachu breaks in, and I notice all four of the Pokemon staring from me to Misty and back again, wondering whether we'd just died on the spot simultaneously.  
  
"Uh sorry, miles away." Misty shakes back into reality, and gives me a smile. "How's about we get Joy to lend us the centre video player, and we get us some take-away and a film?" The pretty unanimous agreement from the other four is more than enough to persuade me.  
  
"Okay, what film do you fancy? If you get the video and order the food, I'll find the local video store and get it out." Her aquamarine eyes fade out of focus for a moment, before she looks back at me.  
  
"One of my all time favourites – The sixth sense?" She winks as the four Pokemon and I instantly sweatdrop. "No, do you not like that one?"  
  
"I've never seen it, it just feels ironic, since I seem to have acquired one." She smiles, obviously thinking of when I unknowing spoke in Cyndaquil- ese.  
  
"Okay. The Green Mile? I heard it's a wonderful film."  
  
"Oh, it is. But it's also an 18 certificate, with a few things in it you might not like…." I also don't tell her I'd seen it before when she went out for an evening, and went through an entire Kleenex box. I didn't sleep a wink that night either, whenever my eyes shut I could see John Coffey with those poor girls in his arms. She looks momentarily abashed, before lapsing back into thought.  
  
"What women want? You could pick up a few tips." The coy way she glances at me with that statement removes any possible insult, but I rise to the bait and put on a pretence of false offence.  
  
"Are you saying I'm insensitive?"  
  
"Yes, as it happens." I turn away, nose in the air.  
  
"Fine. Perhaps I won't get a movie." Her high-pitched laugher floats over my shoulder, and I can just imagine the look on her face.  
  
"Fine, if you want to be like that." Haughtily spoken.  
  
"Fine."  
  
"Good."  
  
"Terrific."  
  
"Splendid."  
  
"…."  
  
"…."  
  
"…Ever seen Forrest Gump?"  
  
"I knew you'd crack first!" She spins around, and bursts into laughter.  
  
"Well, I'm just a big softie aren't I?"  
  
"Yep!" I put on my best woebegone puppy look.  
  
"Hey, that was your cue to jump in and restore my masculine pride, not agree with me!" I can't stop the grin slicing across my mouth.  
  
"Better to know the truth than live in ignorance…"  
  
("Uh, we're enjoying this and all, but do you think we might get to see the film sometime tonight?") Pikachu bumps in, looking undecided whether to enjoy the show or shock us. It's only then I notice that Misty and I are standing barely a foot apart, and inching closer. God knows our destination if she hadn't just stopped the conversation.  
  
"So, what is the movie?"  
  
"….Romeo and Juliet? You know, the modern re-make, with the classical language?" Misty couldn't look more surprised if I'd ran out into the busy street outside with my boxers on my head only wearing her underwear and a belt before serenading the whole city with team rocket's theme song. Well, she never knew I read Shakespeare did she?  
  
"Why would you want to watch that?" It's clear from a quick glance that the others mirror her confusion exactly, with the exclusion of Chikorita who just gives me a knowing wink.  
  
"Because it's my all time second favourite Shakespeare play, behind A Midsummer Nights Dream."  
  
"Oh-kay…" I get the feeling her opinion of me has just changed permanently. "I still can't believe you'd suggest a romance. Are you sure you're Ash Ketchum?" I'm about to admit that no, I'm not, but common sense steps in.  
  
"Hey, if it makes you feel reassured, there is violence in it which makes it acceptable for a man to watch." I can't keep a snigger out of my voice as she looks suitably chastised.  
  
"Sorry, stereotypes again!" I cast a knowing glance to Chikorita, who reads it perfectly and nods in agreement. It says simply – didn't I tell you?  
  
"So, you up for it?" I can see stars in her eyes, I bet she thought she'd have to argue long and hard, followed by a brief mallet intervention to get a romance flick.  
  
"Yeah!"  
  
"I wasn't only asking you, I know you are. What about you guys?" Ignoring her affronted look, I look to the Pokemon for approval.  
  
("Romeo and Juliet? As long as there's a bit of passion to keep me amused!") Totodile approves with a grin.  
  
("Yeah, up for that.") Pikachu is a little less enthusiastic, but clearly wants to see what will happen tonight.  
  
("Watching the TV always makes me sleepy, so at least I might get sweet dreams…") Cyndaquil gives his affirmation. Finally, I look to Chikorita, but don't even need her to speak.  
  
("If it's anything like that sonnet, and it's romantic, pass me the popcorn and some tissues…") I'm satisfied, it's time to get this show on the road.  
  
"Done ignoring me?" Misty has fire in her eye after what she perceived to be a blow-off comment, but it's instantly quenched as I slip her an apologetic look.  
  
"Sorry, sorry. I needed to check it with them too, they'll be watching it as well. But I've got to get going, so the pizzas to order are ten inch Pepperoni deep pan, single person crispy with cheese and extra tomato, single person herb-base with cheese, onion and chive, single-person deep pan with anchovies and single person thin and crispy with chillies and peppers. And whatever you're up for." She mentally processes the orders, working out whose is whose, before nodding.  
  
"Do you fancy maybe putting pineapple on with Pepperoni and sharing a big one?" She gives me a pleading look, the sort of look which could break into Fort Knox, let alone me.  
  
"Yeah, go for it. Use the phone in the lobby in ten minutes, then get the video player off Joy. I know where the video shop is, but I have to get a few other little things. Tobasco sauce, Ketchup, mixed herbs, tartar sauce….and maybe a few treats of our own." I also want the chance to ring mum, and see how she is, but I'm not going to mention that, it could dampen the mood.  
  
"Okay, will do. I'll get everything ready." She settles down, Chikorita climbing into her lap, and flicks the television on. Cyndaquil puts out the flame and rolls onto his back, probably going to have a nap. Totodile heads for the bathroom, shower time. And Pikachu…..Pikachu is en-route to my shoulder. I let her hop up and give Misty a quick wave before walking out of the door. It's only early evening, but I somehow know tonight will be well worth the money.  
  
  
  
I carry the heavy bag back up the hall to the room, and knock quietly. A breath from inside, the slithering rustle of someone walking, and then the door creaks open, followed by my mouth almost as widely.  
  
"Well, are you going to stand out there all night?" Misty turns around and well….slinks back into the room. She really shouldn't have let her hair down completely, it's not going to help my mental ability any tonight. That combined with a smooth, shimmery and rather pleasingly figure-hugging sapphire gown and a smile would make Brock live in a monastery for life in return for one night. Whoo boy, when she said she was going to get everything ready, I didn't know it would include her. I silently trail her into the room, trying to block out the giggling of everyone who noticed my Brock impression. It's at times like this I wish there could be a fine on giggling, or even that god had never invented the giggle gland. I wonder if there was an operation which can remove it from people with an overactive one?  
  
"I got one movie…Ketchup for Pikachu, Tobasco sauce for you, Cyndaquil, some mixed herbs for your pizza Chikorita, and tartar sauce to go with your anchovies Totodile, and some assorted Pokesnacks. Oh, and for us, some high- sugar soft drinks, and…." With a flourish like a magician producing the final rabbit from the hat, I pull out the rest of the contents. "….a two pint tub of Belgian chocolate ice cream, sweet popcorn, and praline chocolates…" Her eyes swell to the size of saucers.  
  
"You know, you are going to be responsible for me being violently sick sometime tonight." She grins, grabbing the ice cream with both hands. Let's just say I know her well enough to get what she wants.  
  
"Well, make sure you leave enough food to give me the chance too, okay? I could really do with some ice cream tonight."  
  
"Well, get us some spoons, and on the way back, turn off the lights. I like a little atmosphere when it comes to watching a good film." I hop off the bed, moving to the kitchenette in one corner, while Chikorita extends a vine to flick off the lights. As I settle down onto the middle bed and the room goes dark, I feel something warm snuggle against my arm, and look into a pair of Aqua eyes alight in the darkness.  
  
"I'll give you fair warning, films like this make me cry…" She snuggles in tighter, and I can almost feel her loose hair brush my nose. For some reason, this time, I don't shy away, despite the fact she's resting her head against my chest which is still in it's changed form. Right now I couldn't care less. I momentarily wonder whether to tell her that since my fifteenth birthday any film with so much as a semblance of sadness makes me dissolve like the wicked witch of the west in a downpour, but decide not to. She'll know soon enough. I sense the others settle near to us, and as the screen turns dark I let myself fall into the moment….  
  
  
  
It's one of those times where I only remember everything in black and white, the last few hours. The pizzas arrived whilst the trailers still rolled by, and we ate them in almost total silence, the only time there was a voice was when Misty and I reached for the last slice of pizza simultaneously. I let my eyes travel up her slender arm and smooth face to those eyes, eyes of aqua. The only things that remained in any shade of colour in my recollections.  
  
"Go on, you have it. It's yours."  
  
"Thank you, Ash…" She sank back down, head in the crook of my arm, and continued watching. And I? I watched her. Just for a moment, her hair washing over me, the way she sighed quietly as she finished eating and sank back into the film, and after a moment I followed suit. The unrestrained fight in the first scene threw my memory back, back to the Masters final.  
  
*It was the rule in the Masters finals that only the trainer and the Pokemon fighting that could determine when they were unable to battle, as a mark of a true master is to know when you are beaten. I knew that Ayla would not recall her Pokemon until they ceased to respond to her commands. And the Pokemon themselves knew no better, being used like a slave eventually produces a slave mentality. I had to do it, had to forfeit Chikorita if it meant that her Wartortle could be seen to. As it was still conscious it would have kept on trying to get up until it did too much damage, and might have died. I was developing the strong link I have now with Pokemon then, and could almost feel the pain nagging at the back of my brain. So, I was left with Pikachu at my side, and she gave me a sly grin. I then realised why, her last Pokemon was…  
  
"Vileplume!" No wonder she's smiling, I've recalled my grass type, and now it's electric against grass in her favour. But, I look down at Pikachu as she looks up, and I can see she's going to do it. I've always believed who you are matters more than what you are, and Pikachu is not only a great fighter, but never, ever gives up.  
  
"Go get 'em!" She hops down and pretends to wait for my command, while slowly pacing towards her opponent. I can see Ayla waiting for the command too, but they don't know something. Pikachu and I, we share a special bond. A bond born through many years of constant companionship and furthered by what I know now to be part of being the Phoenix child. We can talk together without words….  
  
"Viiiille!" Vileplume is cartwheeling over backwards. Ayla trains strong, very strong Pokemon, but when something unexpected happens her almost military training style leaves little flexibility. And it's clear by her silence she's stunned. By the time she gets round to opening her mouth Pikachu has landed two more quick attacks, a tackle with a flash and a thunder wave in the space of two seconds. The yellow blur returns to the centre of the arena, smiling at my mental complements, while Aylas Vileplume is a dark, twitching heap near the foot of her podium.  
  
"Come on, get up!" It tries, and eventually does, but clearly it has no idea what is going on. Another thing Ayla didn't see is that Vileplume are very much at home in the dark, so Pikachus flash being extremely strong has temporarily blinded it, it probably won't be able to see for quite a while.  
  
"Ayla, can't you see it's hopeless?" I call, but the way she glowers back makes it clear she sees this as a challenge. But again, she didn't see this happening. She thought she could use her careful plans and brute force like with all the other trainers, but I'm not like the other trainers.  
  
"Right, try a body slam!" It more loses balance than does a body slam, but it's twenty-five feet from Pikachu and facing the wrong way. Right now, if I hadn't given in, I would have told it to follow my voice and turn to Six O'clock, but she is stumped. I try reasoning again.  
  
"Come on Ayla, give it up!"  
  
"Never!" She screams, nails digging into her palms. I sigh, and sent Pikachu a mental order to use a thunderbolt. She complies, and Vileplume squeals with pain. I wait for Aylas command – nothing. Aonther sigh, and a request to use thunder. She complies, blowing the hapless Vileplume ten yards to the right. I try yet again to reason with Ayla.  
  
"I can't knock it out with electricity attacks, but it can't fight back. Why can't you see it can't battle?" The crowd is hushed as a congregation in contemplation, waiting for the answer. When it comes, it's delivered with the fury of a hurricane.  
  
"Why should I? You said yourself you can't knock him out! What does it matter to me that he's got to endure all this pain? He's just a means to an end! I want to prove to the world, prove I'm the best, that I'm the greatest!" I scour her facial features for a flicker of remorse, a hint of uncertainty, a trace of regret. But no, all it contains is this fervour. "So get up, get up!" The Vileplume gets slowly to its feet, nearly tripping over them, before being sent tumbling by another thunderbolt, this time not by my wishes. Pikachu is getting impatient, so I give her a warning to cool it.  
  
"You do realise that, although Pikachu cannot knock him unconscious, eventually it could die from burns…don't you?" I can see, see she can. But the knowledge means nothing to her, as she gives her Pokemon another verbal lashing to get up. It's then I know that what I have to do is save her Pokemon myself. Sure, I'll won't be a champion, but at least her Vileplume might have a future….I can hear Misty gasp from her seat behind me, where she'd sat through the whole tournament as I pull my cap off, allowing my unkempt raven hair to flow down my neck, and regard it critically for the briefest second, before gently tossing it into the ring. "Come on Pikachu, if she wants it so much, let her have it." My ambition screamed at me as the muted crowd grew slowly louder, a dangerous rumbling brewing, but was silenced by reality. The crown of champion isn't worth a life, be it human or Pokemon. I can feel Pikachus confusion, sense Mistys eyes on the back of my neck, imagine the looks on Chikoritas, Brocks, Mums, Garys faces. But I've made my decision.  
  
("Why, you had it sewn up?") Chikorita sounds choked.  
  
"I can't believe you just gave in the title, what are you doing?" Misty whispers from behind me, but I ignore them. I even ignore Pikachus imploring look as she climbs back into the booth. Eventually, I simply answer:  
  
"Because life is more important than winning…."*  
  
  
  
The film was absorbing as anything I've seen before. I had no idea how Ash came to be into something like this, or how he knows Shakespeare in the first place. It's clear though that he was probably enjoying this even more than me. He was unconsciously stroking my hair, and I'm wasn't about to argue with that either. It was the scene when Tybalt kills Mercutio when my mouth opened unbidden, and I found myself talking of how I lost my father.  
  
"You know, if dad was still here he'd have been forty-four in a week. I wish he was still with me…" Ash had silently reached out and grasped my hand, sensing that I needed him to be there, but not interrupt. "….He was wonderful, especially since mum died. David was his name, but I just called him Dai. It was easier for me when I was younger, before I could handle David, and it stuck. He came through the death of his wife and still looked after four boisterous girls. But then that day came, he went out one day and never came back….they said it was an accident, but I'd just love to see whoever was driving that car that day and show them what it did to me…." I felt a tear slide down my face, but I let it. I felt Ash nuzzle into my hair, giving me a silent nudge to continue. "He was a great man, and a wonderful friend, always ready to joke but you could talk to him about anything you wanted and he'd listen. I was wondering just a day before what would happen if I lost him, and thought I'd be like a ship without an anchor. I was right. I went off the rails, nearly lost it altogether. My sisters couldn't deal with their loss, so they pecked at each other, and most of all me. I was on my last legs when I met you, and without you I would've ended up in that lake without a hook to hang on to…." My tears were flowing freely when I felt a gentle hand brush them away, and draw me closer, so close I could almost hear his heart beating. Eventually he spoke in a tender, beguiling voice, a tone I'd never heard him use before.  
  
"Don't you worry Mist. I'm not going anywhere without you for a long time." I felt his lips embrace my cheek at the same another solitary tear glided down, the two colliding. But where the two sensations had mingled only one then remained, that of him. Romeo, crying to the heavens on the screen, suddenly became insignificant as a dusk shadow. All that mattered was the way his brown eyes drew me hypnotically closer, how our lips became one, how he held me closer than a mother her baby. For just a few moments, all that mattered was….us.  
  
  
  
The rest of the night passed as a wondrous blur, the two of us together. Barely another word spoken, barely another move made. But just laying there, arms intertwined and lips aflame, silent glances speaking more words of love than a Shakespeare sonnet. I vaguely remember the rest of the film, except for the last scenes. The lone soliloquies of both Romeo and Juliet, each exquisitely touching and desperately mournful, yet infused with hope, hope that they could each still join each other in death. I remember how Misty and I wept together, how we held each other yet tighter as the tale of unrequited love span to a dreadful end with delicacy of finest silk. And I can remember foremost of all how two emotions clashed like waves against the land within me. The desire to stay with Misty always, with the fear I may have lied to her, deceived her by my promise. I am the child of the Phoenix, and much as I love her, it seems it cannot prevent this progression. And when the fated hour comes, I may have to leave her forever. It was then, when I settled back down into the darkness to try and resolve the battle when the light snapped on, startling us both and bringing me to the present. Pikachu, stood below the light switch, small smile pinching at her mouth. Totodile still in his own world, staring at the credits and sighing deeply. And Chikorita….lying beside Cyndaquil, both of them looking at us with wetness smouldering in their eyes. I then realise how Misty and I look, arms wrapped around each other, faces touching, eyes red. But I don't care, just don't care. She looks up at me, as I look down at her, and from the moment our eyes meet, I know I don't even have to say those three little words, what is there is proof enough. But even so, I feel I have to say it.  
  
"….I love you, Misty." She closes those eyes for a moment, just savouring the moment, a moment I want to capture in a locket just to relive it for the rest of my time.  
  
"I love you too…" She drifts off in my lap, and I smile at the Pokemon clustered around me.  
  
("Getting comfortable?") Chikorita cheekily asks.  
  
"Yeah, it's taken six and a half years, so god knows it's time."  
  
("Mind if I light up Ash? I need to get rid of a little excess flame.") Cyndaquil asks, still nestled against her.  
  
("Why? Does it give you heartburn?") Totodile chuckles from the end of the bed.  
  
("Ha ha. Yes, as it happens.") Cyndaquil considerately moves away from Chikorita before settling near my feet.  
  
"Go on, just remember this is a non-smoking room." He rolls his eyes at the awful pun before lighting the flames on his back. As soon as they flare into life I feel my concentration focus into them, into the very core. The world fades from focus, and a vision fills my mind. Fire, a familiar building on fire. Flames towering high. Three girls, three sisters screaming on the street outside, two holding the third back from rushing into the building. My vision sweeps away from them to see the fire brigade, my old friend Squirtle leading the battle and saving the lives of many Pokemon. A Dewgong, a Goldeen….The vision leaves him and delves deep, deep, into choking smoke. There is but one, one is trapped inside. I can feel its fear, hear its cries. Somehow, I reach it through the dancing red flames and cloying brown smoke, and I move into its young mind and calm it, no her. She's trapped by burning eaves, and can't break free. I feel the squeezing of anguish as I realise that my spirit alone cannot help her, free her from this burning mass. But, I do what I can, I hold back my sadness and coax her, gently ease her tormented mind to remember images of joy and wonder, so when her youthful eyes close for the last time, as the smoke overwhelms her, they are eyes at peace….  
  
  
  
("Ash!") I feel several hands pull me up, and I throw myself into the open arms of Misty, who cradles me through my sudden sobbing.  
  
"What happened, what scared you?" She coos slowly, as I regain some control. I can still feel echoes from that mind, the knowledge that death was coming, and the pure fear as bright as the white-hot core of the blaze. Eventually, I can just control my voice long enough to speak a few words.  
  
"A vision….a fire, I felt it….Cerulean gym has been burnt to the ground…."  
  
  
  
A little cliffhanger again, hope you enjoyed this!  
  
Don't forget to leave a little comment or flame, depending on your taste.  
  
C'ya soon (hopefully)  
  
Dan. 


	5. Wait for sleep

Chapter five time! This isn't as long as the previous chapter, I decided to make this one shorter so it is easier to read.  
  
Big thanks to Dragoness, Bigred and Nova S as usual, I wish others reviewed as often as you do! Also thanks to iuvat equus and nitro, your reviews made my day!  
  
Disclaimer – I do not own any of the characters in this fanfiction, or anything other Pokemon related. All I have is a large imagination and an addiction to writing. The song through her eyes is written by Dream Theater, and I do not own the original lyrics (although I have adjusted it slightly in parts for use in this fic.)  
  
So, on with the show.  
  
  
  
Child of the Light one – Chapter 5.  
  
  
  
"What?" She looks incredulous, and disbelieving.  
  
"I-It's on f-fire, I had to…." I can't articulate it, the true anguish gripping me and growing tighter with every stumbling word. I can feel my body shake, sense rivulets on my face, but it seems so insignificant. I'd done what I could, but to be in that mind and feel the pure terror running like molten ice through me.…Chikorita senses my need as she squeezes me tightly, meanwhile gesturing to Pikachu to turn the television on. She must do, as another noise permeates my senses although it's too indistinct to make sense.  
  
"Ash, there's nothing on the news. It's just a dream…"  
  
"NO! It's happened! I watched her…helped her…." Misty shakes her head, drawing me into a hug.  
  
"Calm down, shhh…" I think my frantic shaking stopped, although I still felt the wrenching sobs wracking my body, the tears cascading down my face, the haunting memory still hanging over me.  
  
("Oh, Misty! Look!") A yellow blur moves, and I feel Mistys focus shift.  
  
"Oh no…no…." Past Pikachu, I picked out moving reds and flashing colours, and deep down know what she was seeing.  
  
"I'm sorry, I couldn't help her…." Her focus shifts back to me, and through the haze I can see her frown.  
  
"It's not your fault, and how could you help?" She sounds partly sad, partly angry, possibly at fate itself.  
  
"I couldn't save her, it's all I could do…" Chikorita and Cyndaquil, both cuddled against my chest, exchange a glance.  
  
"It says there are no known casualties, so what are you on about?"  
  
"…She's died. I couldn't move the beams…"  
  
("Who? What did you do?") Totodile is becoming impatient.  
  
"…I went into her mind, she was terrified. I took it away, so she could die peacefully…" Cyndaquil sits up abruptly, a signal for the others to take notice.  
  
("A power of the Phoenix, to feel others minds, to manipulate them…who did you see?") I gather what sense I can, and explain through the sobs.  
  
"I looked through the blaze, and felt her trapped, her mind screaming. She was but a child. I couldn't move her, release her. I went into her mind, chased away the terror, anguish, pain, and brought to her her most treasured memories, her greatest loves, so when she passed away she did so at peace…the last thing she thought of was you, Mist…she loved you above all other things in the world, so she died with you in her heart, and joy in her eyes…." My voice cracks, and it's too much. The heat, the panic, the chaos…I just manage one final sentence. "It was Horsea…" I can feel consciousness trying to slip from my grasp as Misty gasps and stiffens, before letting out a plaintive wail.  
  
"No, it can't be…."  
  
("Calm down, take it easy….") Pikachu leaps to her side, making eye contact. ("There's no reason to panic, we don't know if what Ash says is true….") A single smash silences her, and five pairs of eyes whip around to me. I glare at Pikachu with chilling intensity, and lower my arm, which had hurled a glass into the wall with such force that a crack split open in the wood. Something else took over at that moment…something frightening.  
  
"Are you saying that the pain I felt, the mind-numbing terror, the anguish was all imagined?" She quails under my gaze, and somewhere deep down I register a collection of gasps from the others. But it doesn't matter right now, only this all consuming fire of fury, whipped up by gales of confusion, scrabbling to escape. "Then tie me to a crucifix, whip me day and night, stab me for every tear I shed and burn me with hot iron for every truth I tell, because I'll still tell you the same truth, and your torture will never, ever hurt me like the pain I've just felt…." I finish in a low growl, quiet but powerful as a tigers, potent as snake venom.  
  
("Your eyes…") Chikorita whispers, edging away from me with a look of fear etched on her face.  
  
"Ash, what's going on? What is wrong with you?!" Mistys voice wrenches me back into reality, and the sadness crashes back into me, a raging torrent breaking through the banks of my control and engulfing my senses. I throw my head into her lap, weeping quietly, and feel her gasp. Then, soft as clouds, her hands flow across my face, wiping away the last residues of anger, leaving only bitterness and pain, pain I let seep out through the water from my eyes.  
  
("I think it's time to explain a few things….") Chikorita cautiously begins, only to be shushed by Cyndaquil.  
  
("There's time for that later, but right now he's being tormented enough. Let him calm first, then it is time for reasoning.") I thanked him silently, I just wanted to be held for a while, so I could try and forget who I am, and what I've seen. Just a few moments peace….lips grace my hair, and I let the image of Misty flow into my mind. Those compassionate eyes, that beautiful smile…for just a few moments, life is sweet again. I sink into the feeling, trying to suspend the moment from a thread for as long as I my eyes are closed….  
  
  
  
"Thank you, for a wonderful night…." A wonderful night it was. First a few coffees, and some idle chit-chat. Somehow I'd kept my head, which normally swells to the size of a blimp when a girl doesn't blow me off instantly, and suggested a film. She agreed, and we ended up seeing some romantic comedy or other. They all seem the same to me, they all seem to have Hugh Grant in for a start, but today I didn't mind. A bucket of popcorn, a few cokes and a bag of Malteasers later, and we went to a restaurant for a meal. Nothing fancy, and we spent the evening talking, getting to know one another better. I imagine I was staring at her like Ash does at Misty, but he's bright enough to do it when she won't notice. But Suzy didn't seem bothered, moreover she seemed flattered. Looks like I'm not the only one who likes a little attention. I don't know if it was just the way the sun had set, or how she clung to my arm as we sat in a bar and drank tequila, each mouthful christened by increasingly absurd promises and wishes, or even when she'd tripped tipsily while walking back to the Noctowl café and dragged him into the gutter with her, something tonight has made it all worthwhile. I can remember I once heard Ash whispering a verse of his own in the dark, and those couple of lines made sense right now. It went something like… "Although we've done naught great tonight, Enough is you in the moonlight…." I have to grill him for more lines like those! God, what is the world coming to, I'm asking Ash for chat up lines? Anyhow, we'd returned to the café, where we'd toasted a fantastic evening with large mugs of coffee and even more chocolate. I'm stuck between hyperactivity from the sugar and caffeine, and drowsiness from too much tequila. And now, she's wishing me a good night, and thanking me for the evening. I can't believe it, simply can't.  
  
"Thank you too, it's been the best night of my life." I can't remember ever saying anything with such sincerity before. Our eyes lock, and in the space of a heartbeat, she's craned up and pecked me on the lips. I think my eyes must have crossed in surprise as she giggles, tinkling laughter dancing around my ears like fairies on a spring dawn. It's that laugh which begs me to throw caution to the wind, and for once I listen to the desire. I look into her face as if to seek permission but I just see a reflection of my own feelings, which is enough. I slowly slip an arm around her, and sink into a deep, sensual kiss, a movement she returns without hesitation. I don't know how much time elapses, whether seconds or aeons, but I do know when it breaks it hasn't been long enough. As we draw apart I fight the urge to just close the space again, and never let go this time.  
  
"Do you do this to every girl on a first date?" A mischievous smile is perched on her lips.  
  
"Well, this is a first date ever, and a first kiss, so I gotta say yes…." I realise I've let a little more slip than first intended, but Suzy kills any embarrassment stone dead.  
  
"At least you're honest, any other guy who's tried to pick me up makes himself out to be a cross between Eros and a rabbit." We both laugh at her unique turn of phrase, laugh which falters out to a silky silence again. Slowly, she moves back in, and in barely a whisper, asks me "Fancy a night- cap back at my place?"  
  
"Honestly, what would people think?" I smirk mockingly as she gives me a sly wink, followed by another peck on the cheek.  
  
"Let them think what they want. But anyone who has gone out with me knows Vulpix is very protective of me, especially on a first date…." I just smile, and take her hand, revelling in its soft touch, gentle grip, smooth palm.  
  
"Well, lead away…"  
  
  
  
Through her eyes  
  
  
  
She never really had a chance,  
  
On that fateful moonlight night.  
  
Sacrificed without a fight,  
  
A victim of a circumstance.  
  
  
  
Now that I've become aware,  
  
And I've exposed this tragedy,  
  
A sadness grows inside of me,  
  
It all seems so unfair.  
  
  
  
I'm learning more about my life  
  
By looking through her eyes…  
  
  
  
Just beyond the churchyard gates,  
  
Where the grass is overgrown  
  
I saw the writing on her stone,  
  
I felt like I would suffocate.  
  
  
  
In loving memory of this child…  
  
So innocent, eyes open wide,  
  
I felt so empty as I cried  
  
Like part of me had died.  
  
  
  
I'm learning all about my life,  
  
By looking through her eyes.  
  
  
  
And as her image wandered through my head,  
  
I wept just like a baby as I lay awake in bed.  
  
And I know what it's like to lose someone you love,  
  
And this felt…just the same…  
  
  
  
She wasn't given any choice,  
  
Desperation stole her voice  
  
I've been given so much more in life,  
  
Full nine years more, yet I survive  
  
  
  
I have to suffer one last time,  
  
To grieve her heart and say goodbye.  
  
Relive the anguish of life past,  
  
To find out who I was at last.  
  
  
  
The door has opened wide,  
  
I'm turning with the tide,  
  
Looking through her eyes…  
  
  
  
I clapped the diary shut, after watching the ink dry on the last letter, and closed my eyes again. Misty, who had watched every stroke of the pen on the fresh page through tearful eyes until it was filled by this poem, this prayer for the departed, let out a quiet sob. Her Horsea, her first Pokemon, she'd had since she'd hatched a few days before she turned ten….the child whose innocent eyes I soothed before she left on her last journey….she was just like any human child. She was with us until we last went to Cerulean, but weeks ago, where Misty had left her so she could grow up in a place she could be free. Like a child, she'd cried to see her mother go, and I know that was the last memory Misty had of her. I had to write this sad lament for so many reasons, an exorcism of everything I've felt and still feel, in her memory, to calm Misty. I know that I've gone through emotions far more intense than anything I've ever felt, the pain of losing the Indigo league or the death of my father to the power of infinity, but Misty will go through a far more drawn out suffering, mourning is a dreadful but necessary part of bereavement, and she will feel it intensely. She always feels things deeply, even if she sometimes doesn't show it. So, this poem is hers. She can't express grief like this easily, no-one I know can, so I've done the best I can, given her the words. Slowly, she gets up, and clicks off the television, the vulgar news broadcast centred on the now smouldering ruins of Cerulean gym vanishing, before sagging down with total disbelief on her face. The last act of the report was to justify my words, that Horsea was still missing, and presumed dead. She sat silent for a moment before turning to me, some undefinable emotion glistening in her eyes.  
  
"Right, tell me how you knew. Now." He voice is cold and hard as glass, but I can see it is just as brittle.  
  
"Uh, I'm not sure…" I begin, only to see her gaze solidify.  
  
"Why? You scared?" She's keeping it together, but barely.  
  
"Well…yes…I am…" I have to be honest, but I don't know what part of the truth scares me most.  
  
"Come on! We're all waiting, why not enlighten us all?" She punctuates it with a wild sweep of her hand, hysteria creeping in.  
  
("I don't think this is the time.") Chikorita begins, only to gasp as she rounds on her with rattlesnake speed.  
  
"So you know as well! What is this, I'm quite obviously not part of some secret society which knows all about what's going on because I'm just little Misty who sits in a room all night reading while everyone swaps their secrets!" She shrieks, red hair whipping out behind her as she spins.  
  
("Really, just calm down Misty…") Pikachu is also silenced as she spins around again, to continue her tirade.  
  
"Calm down? You're telling me to calm down?! It's not one of your best friends who's died just because you left her behind!" Tears are coursing down her face, as she drags her nails down it leaving sets of parallel scar lines. "It wasn't you who told her to stay there against her wishes because you thought it was a good idea and it wasn't you who sent a child to her death thinking of her future and now she doesn't have a future and she won't ever laugh or sing or cry or see or feel or breathe again and it's all….my…FAULT!" I grab her and bring her into a tight, loving embrace as she throws her arms around me, sobbing as if there is no tomorrow. The others back off to give her some space as I just caress her wet face, whisper indistinct condolences to soothe her turmoil. I can feel it….in a pulse I'm somehow in her mind, and share her sorrow, trying to quell the tsunami. She is filled with anger, thinking of all the what ifs and maybes, somehow blaming herself for this accident. To ease the agonising cries of her conscience, I draw in my memories of Horsea, the great times we'd had, playing at the beach, her swimming with us in the sea. It gets harder, I feel like I'm falling into a well as my own mind grows dark, but I keep pulling out those negative emotions, feeding pleasurable images and joyous occasions until I hear her sobs die to whimpering. Slowly, carefully I ease away, and as I break contact the raw negativity slams into me with force tenfold of what I had just experienced, and for just a little time, I'm unable to think, or see, only feel.  
  
  
  
I can feel my panic easing slowly, something about Ashs hypnotic touch is calming me quicker than words ever could. Yet, as images of happy times begin flowing through my consciousness, I feel something is wrong. Almost as if my neuroses are being extracted….I stop crying and lift my head, only to see his eyes glaze with agony. In the space of a lightning flash, he's dissolved into a fit of tears, choking cries and babbled words making no sense, only expressing some feeling which can't be articulated. I grip him as I had when it happened earlier, and through the hushing noises I make I feel something is not right…  
  
("Watch out!") Chikorita, in a wild attempt to calm him, lets out her sweet scent across his face. A split-second later, Cyndaquil hurls himself at her and knocks her off the bed with a wild squeal, misdirecting the scent. But I can feel something happening to the one who I hold in my arms, and as he calms, something slowly changes. I lean backwards, and my mind goes numb. His chest, it's changed, it's like mine. He's getting really hot too, and as I watch his arms and legs begin to darken…and they are engulfed in scarlet and golden flame….  
  
"Toto-toto-diiile!" Totodile lets out a strong spray of icy water over him as I roll away to avoid getting burnt, head spinning with bizarre images and undiluted confusion.  
  
"Cynda-queel! Cynda-cynda-cynda queeeeel!" Cyndaquil is giving Chikorita a massive bollocking, but I don't care. It's wrong, I have to be wrong….Something snaps within, and in the blink of an eye I'm heading to the door. As I move to wrench it open, a yellow shape blurs up to cling to the handle.  
  
("You are not going anywhere!") Pikachu fixes me with a dark eye, cheeks sparkling dangerously.  
  
"Let me out!" I almost scream, panic flowing through my veins.  
  
("Not until you've heard us out!") My hand reaches out for the handle unbidden by conscious thought, and she bats it away with her tail.  
  
"Why? I don't want to see whatever that is ever, ever again!" I want to die right now, take the life from my body as she looks at me with total disdain. How could I say that? Why did I say that? This is my great friend, my love, and I'm about to run out on him without knowing why.  
  
("You know, maybe I should let you go. You really don't deserve him.") Pikachus fury is clear, the way her eyes sparkle with the same energy as her cheeks speaks volumes.  
  
"Oh…." I can't speak, I just sink to my knees as the heavy hand of shame presses me down.  
  
("Come on Misty, come over here. You need to hear what Cyndaquil can tell us.") Chikorita, looking abashed from the tongue lashing she'd received, gestures for me to sit down on the now wet bed, beside the comatose form of Ash, who is starting to look a little cooler. I run an eye over him, he's now swathed in feathers of red, white and black, clothes in ashes scattered around him. But the pain in his eyes has eased, and I'm somehow not scared any longer.  
  
"Okay." I meekly walk over to the bed, and slowly sit. Pikachu positions herself between me and the door on the next bed, before nodding for Cyndaquil to continue. With Chikorita translating for him, they finally tell me what was going on.  
  
("Ash, he is the child of the Phoenix. The Phoenix, god of Pokemon, is one of only two Pokemon rumoured to be originally human, Mews being the other. The legend states that there can only be one true Phoenix, and the Phoenix lives for all eternity. But if the Phoenix wishes to end its own cycle, it must select another person at birth to rise from its ashes when it next should die. For although there is only one Phoenix, the one who is the Phoenix may change. As the Phoenix reaches the end of its life, its powers wane. Normally, these powers will just return in the next lifetime, but if a child is chosen, it shall begin to inherit these powers. The actual progression of child to Phoenix, however, is not guaranteed, the two shall meet on the night of passing, and fate decides. It is only when the two meet on that night, however, that the Phoenix can change its choice, revoke the choice of child, accept continuation of its cycle. But several things will be inherent nonetheless to the child, if the change takes place or not. He or she will be able to manipulate fire, water and wind, can understand all people and Pokemon, feel and sense the minds of others and even change their emotions. That is why he's been so distraught, he drew the bad emotions out of Horsea and you, and gave you positive feelings. He's got the condensed, raw horror from the two of you in his consciousness, and he's disposing of it. He can't control his abilities yet, as the Phoenix hasn't yet reached the end of its cycle, but he'll be fine.") I try to absorb the expanse of information, but my mouth just asks the first question that comes into my head, the most important to me.  
  
"Is he still Ash?" Cyndaquil cocks his head, thinking carefully. Eventually, he raises it, and squeaks slowly.  
  
("Yes.") Chikorita doesn't need to translate, the tone is enough. The shadow of uncertainty fades a little as I finally realise what is important. It isn't what form he may take, as long as he's with me.  
  
"Ah, I'm a total baka, I can't believe I was going to run away like that." I examine my fingers, to distract me from Pikachus now sardonic stare.  
  
("Tell me about it.") She growls, shaking her head.  
  
("That's why Ash was dead set against you knowing, he thought, no knew that the first reaction of anyone human would be to panic.") Chikorita adds. ("You wouldn't have found out now, if I hadn't panicked myself and used my sweet scent to try calming him down. Things like that set him off.") Set him off?  
  
"But, how did he get….breasts? And what is with these feathers?" Chikorita fields this one in a flash.  
  
("He said that strong Pokemon effects cause a spontaneous morph. His breast swells because he's becoming a Phoenix, and although they are said to be asexual all Phoenixes are inherently female.") She sends a thank you glance to Cyndaquil before continuing. ("The first changes are the superficial ones, like feathers and chest shape. Then leg and arm length and overall body shape, and finally the face and head. I don't think he's ever changed completely…oh, but there was that time he awoke the day before we got here, he said he couldn't find his boxers or watch, and told me at lunch that day he'd dreamt he was flying, but it seemed so real. He must have transformed fully for the first time. That was before he told any of us anything. Of course, if it wasn't for Cyndaquil here, we'd still be in the dark…") Cyndaquil just looks bashful. Must be more to him than meets the eye.  
  
"How on earth do you know all this?" I ask, letting myself focus on the present to block out the past.  
  
("Hell, all young fire Pokemon are taught these lessons by their elders. It's just I happen to have a rather good memory. When I've woken up, that is.") He grins sheepishly as Pikachu translates, and I return the smile. It was a common thing to happen when Ash had only just met him that he couldn't light his flame at will, and preferred sleeping to anything involving effort. Ash rubbed off on him, and he's energetic as anyone most of the time, but still has a habit of dozing off.  
  
"Well, it's a good thing you're a scholar." I reply, before sliding slowly off the bed, and walking unsteadily to the bathroom. I nudge the door so it's almost shut, and sit down on the closed toilet seat, staring at my reflection in the mirror above the sink opposite. I just need a little space, some moments of peace and solitude. To try and calm the storm. My eyes are red and tired, my hair straggling out from behind my head in disarray. My cheeks are smudged and red, skin dulled by the stresses of the night. I brush my fringe up, taking a steadying breath. It's a lot to take in, the loss of my old family home, the death of someone who was almost as close as a daughter, and to find my longest and deepest friend, and the one I love most, is not who I thought him to be. No, it is too much to take in, I realise this deep down. That doesn't make it easier, of course.  
  
("Hey, why are you hiding?") Chikorita pokes her head around the door, looking up at me with gentle eyes.  
  
"Do you mind, I could have been doing anything at all in here right now!" I still have this automatic defence system which cuts in, I don't know why.  
  
("Yeah, well you weren't busy because there was no noise, you didn't lift the toilet lid, and you didn't shut the door.")  
  
"Yeah well, I could've forgot, and I might have been….you know, that time of the month, and all that?" What a stupid, stupid defence. I don't even know why I'm defending, come to think of it, what am I trying to defend? My reasons for coming in here?  
  
("Nah, Ash told me that it's on Wednesday.") Okay, now I'm worried.  
  
"How the hell does he know?" Chikorita looks comfortable with this, no doubt Ash has explained everything in his own particular way.  
  
("Well, he's travelled with you for years, so he's probably as ready for it as you. Ready to take cover…no, that's just a joke. He says he makes sure you're happy as you can be.") She's right, the few days last month he'd been even more of a gentleman. ("Also, he said he was able to sense it, I think we know why now.") Yeah, the little matter of him being the next Phoenix, how could I forget?  
  
"I just came in here to get a little peace to think things through, and if you don't mind me saying so, you're not proving much of a help." She looks taken aback, but shrugs it off.  
  
("Okay, but you know where I am. Ash is coming around, and he's not going to wait outside when he finds out you know.") She turns around and heads out of the door, giving me my desired peace. I just sit in the silence for a few minutes, mind simmering gently. Endless thoughts skipping in and out of focus, none lasting long enough to hold. Gradually, from somewhere I don't understand, slow laughter begins. I can feel how incongruous this is, but I start thinking of my conversation with Chikorita. I mean, isn't that so weird, to have a discussion like that in the middle of the night when your friend has passed away? My chuckling grows louder, breaking out into guffaws. The way that Ash burst into flames before my eyes, so surreal, almost hysterical…the same face appears from around the door, chocolate eyes nervous. Those eyes widen with surprise as I break into yet louder peals of laughter, as another memory swims through my minds eye. The way that the flames had danced on the television, so ironic that I didn't believe him, that I denied reality, I must looked like a fool, a clown! He eases his way fully into the room, and cautiously crouches down to my level. His fluffy arms look so funny, the redness like the fire, the fire that killed my friend! Irony at its most extreme! He slowly engulfs me with his arms as my shrieks of laughter become great heaving sobs, the hysteria and surreality crumbling to reveal raw and untamed anguish. I don't even move as he scoops me up, and walks with me cradled like a rag doll in his arms to the same bed we'd lain on the whole night as I wail just like a new- born. I can't help it, all self-control has been torn from my grasp, I'm helpless in his arms. I can't think or feel, confusion like none I've ever experienced is raging a horrific war throughout me, I'm drowning in myself, wild water closing over my head. Slowly, I become aware of another sensation, and I gradually wake to reality, and the pleasurable feeling of Ashs lips embracing my own. Without hesitation I begin returning the kiss, and feeling the new pressure, he backs off, sitting up.  
  
"Cynda-cynda quei queel!" Cyndaquil chirps from somewhere nearby.  
  
"Uh?" I ask, still dizzily trying to come to terms with something, anything.  
  
"He said "you were right, it did work like a charm."" I reach out to the voice, my hand brushing a cheek. Slowly, a strong hand grasps it, and a mouth kisses it.  
  
"Toto-toto-toto-diiile, totodile!" The comment which makes no sense to me provokes crude chuckles from the others, followed my Ash craning down to kiss me on the forehead.  
  
"You probably don't want that one translated." He whispers, before laying down beside me and allowing me to cuddle up to him as closely as I want to, which is as close as humanly possible.  
  
"Sorry…."  
  
"I don't know why you're apologising for crying Mist. It's natural, and I'm glad you're not hiding your emotions." He soothes me, before gesturing off to Totodile.  
  
"I feel so stupid, like a kid…" He shushes me with a stroke of my hair.  
  
"Take it easy baby. No-one expects you to ignore your feelings, least of all me." Totodile re-appears, hands something to Pikachu, and disappears again. "But for now, I suppose you wouldn't be adverse to a little comfort eating? Chocolate ice cream is sweet, but it's even more so when shared….Now, be a good girl and open wide!" It's all I can do to pull back a giggle as he jokingly does the old "Train into a tunnel" thing with the spoon of ice cream, as if I was a toddler. I suppose, as it melts on my tongue, that I could put up with it for one night at least. I mean, don't we all need to be pampered sometimes? He can do to me what only my father could, calm me when I'm on the edge. For now, it's enough to just absorb the attention and let time pass until I feel ready to face it again.  
  
  
  
I'd sank into the sofa, cradling a G&T in my left hand. We'd got back to the flat, and Vulpix had welcomed me in with a slightly confused air, but she relaxed as soon as I put my hands on her to give her a quick rub. Suzy had disappeared into the bathroom , and emerged a few minutes later with her hair down and a fresh face, dressed in loose cotton pyjamas. It was about that moment my mind gave a huge wolf-whistle, but Vulpix saved me from making an idiot of myself by gently removing my eyebrows with a lick of flame, as if to say "you're here, so don't screw up!" before rolling over to have her belly tickled. Some gentle music filled the air, and Suzy poured us both a drink. I'd settled on the couch as she reclined on the bed, and we'd just talked about nothing and everything, everything except what was really on out minds. As you do late at night with someone you like, just tiptoeing around on comfortable ground, waiting for the slow waltz of conversation to maybe break into the tango, or even a bit of dirty dancing. After a while, she'd asked me how I felt about life at the moment. I replied with more frankness than I'd perhaps expected, I told her I felt like I was the best man at a wedding, part of moments of happiness but never quite getting the chance to experience it myself. She'd just listened as I told her about how I'd gone through my teenage years a companion to Ash and Misty, and how now, as I am nearing twenty and Ash and Misty are drawing closer and closer together, I'm feeling more and more like a passenger, that I need to get off and start my own life again. She'd slid off the bed, skewing the sheets, and sat down beside me. She asked me to tell her what I'd really want to do with life. I'd started off with the inevitable "Well, I'm not really sure, but…." line, but something else took over. It's been so long since someone has asked me, really. Ash knows, and he's always been one to keep reassuring me that I will make it, and Misty mentions it, but I haven't really discussed my future with anyone for a long time. I told her how I'd like to settle down, raise a family and become a professional breeder. How I'd also like to develop my research into Pokemon feeding, psychology and massage. How I think that I could revolutionise Pokemon feeding, and that I could develop new ways to treat and condition Pokemon, and develop further the knowledge of their mindscape and how to treat depression. She'd listened to me for what seemed like ages, but stopped me as I talked about Pokemons mental outlook.  
  
"Do you realise you've mentioned Ash at least twenty times in the last hour?" Thinking about it, she was right. She asked me why he was on my mind so much. I think I replied that he was worrying me recently, but she said that there was more to it. Then, I think I realised it.  
  
"It's because he's everything I want to be. A master with Pokemon, someone who can understand them as well as a human, someone respected by all for his skills, and someone who has all the skills needed to become a famous figure for many years to come. And, he has a loving girl who worships him, a girl he'll undoubtedly be with for the rest of his life." She'd taken hold of me as I realised, and whispered into my ear.  
  
"He's living your dreams. You've given him guidance, now he's the greatest. It's time for you to become great in your own right. And I know, and I'm telling you, you could do it." I don't know what to make of this advice. Part of me screams that I should stick with Ash and Misty, but another part, a part which I think I've ignored for too long, tells me this is my chance. I just have to take the plunge.  
  
"Where would I start? I've got a bit of money, but nowhere near enough to start up anything concrete." Her eyes light up, I get the feeling she was hoping that the conversation would move down these lines.  
  
"Well, I'm planning to expand my breeding business, and I'm on the lookout for a partner. For the business, I mean…well, you know what I mean. So, I want to know, since I've known you from the past, and Vulpix thinks the world of you, would you be that man?" I simply can't believe it, the chance of a lifetime in my hands. My fear screams at me that it's too fast, too sudden. My desire, so long suppressed, calls for me to accept. Fear replies that it wouldn't be wise, not without time to think. Desire tells me it's a once in a lifetime chance. Fear tells me that I don't really know her, desire says I know her well enough to put my life with hers for the future. In the crucial seconds defining my future…. Desire won.  
  
  
  
She's finally passed out, fallen asleep. Brock is nowhere to be seen, and I'm still unable to clear my head. So, I just pet Cyndaquil and Chikorita while I watch Misty sleep in front of me, with Pikachu and Totodile sleeping next to her. She seems uncomfortable though, moving around and getting her clothes tangled. She looks so angelic at rest, face less creased by worry. She moves again, trying to get comfortable, but I've had enough.  
  
("Cyndaquil, could you go to her bag, and pick out her pyjamas? She's gone through enough tonight, I want her sleep to be as comfortable as possible.") I realise I've spoken this in Cyndaquil tongue, but it seems natural. He slowly gets up, and slowly shuffles over to the bag.  
  
("C'mon Chikorita, let's get her changed.") She nods her assent, and working together, we carefully pull her sapphire gown off her, revealing a gorgeous sight. I chuckle as Chikorita makes a face at me. ("Well, I wouldn't be human if I didn't have a quick glance!") She goes to work on unfolding the clothes which Cyndaquil has ferried over, but he nudges me with concerned eyes.  
  
("Take a look at the motif on the pyjamas….") I don't even need to look. Her blue, Horsea-styled pyjamas…not a thing she wants to be waking up in tomorrow, or should I say today.  
  
("Yeah, not a good plan. She'll have to sleep as she is. But she can't on this bed, it's still messed up from my little….incident earlier.") True, it's not exactly cold, but it is for someone in her underwear without a blanket.  
  
("We'll put her on the end bed.") Chikorita gestures to the one nearest the kitchenette.  
  
"Let's go for it." I said that in normal language. Life is getting even more complicated.  
  
("I wonder what your mother would think Ash, you carrying Misty to bed when she's only marginally clothed?") Chikorita giggles and I tenderly pick her up.  
  
"She'd have a fit, no doubt." I turn around, and as Cyndaquil pulls the covers back, lay her down carefully as if she was made of porcelain. I then pull the covers up to around her neck, and smile as she gives a satisfied sigh and a small grin appears on her lips. "Now, I'm going to grab that bit of unfinished business in my room, so don't move!" I'm out of the room, into my room, and then back into the room in a flash, carrying Chikoritas pyjamas, my needlework kit with the measurements, and some little bits and pieces. She settles down with Cyndaquil to watch me work with a happy sigh, as they both know that while Misty is asleep I'm not going to rest tonight, and that while I'm awake they've promised to keep me, and each other, company. I thread the needle in one without looking at it, and set to finishing the basic sleeves and collar. Then, I pull out my surprise. The smile on her face is enough. A strip of trim, green as meadow grass, composed of lace leaves, again interspersed with Chikory flowers. I carefully cut and stitch it to every edge, time passing imperceptibly with every flick of the hand. After a while, I just look up to Cyndaquil, and simply say:  
  
"Go on, off to bed. If you yawn any louder, you'll wake everyone else up." He doesn't even reply, just curls up on the arm of the settee beside me and dozes off.  
  
("No stamina, some people.") Chikorita cheekily comments from beside me, her eyes still wide with joy.  
  
"I was impressed, I've never seen anyone stay up for you that long. Well, excepting me." She blushes, eyes swelling even wider in a comical display of surprise.  
  
("What do you mean?")  
  
"The whole time your eyes were on this, his were on you. He was staying awake to keep you company as much as me." I've definitely brushed something, she's looking as bashful as she ever has before.  
  
("Uhhhh…") I just smile, letting my eyes drop down to my work again. Not much more to do, final lace done, poppers on properly on, hems checked, yes. One last thing. I reach into the bag and pull out two small pieces of embroidery, which are beyond even me at the moment. She just gapes as I sew the delicately detailed flower and Ash leaf together, and then attach them to the front of the pyjamas, just below the collar on the front of the neck.  
  
"Et voila!" She just gazes at it reverently, words unnecessary.  
  
("Beautiful just beautiful…") I lay it in front of her, and nod.  
  
"Care to try it on?"  
  
("Sure!") I give her a hand with the opening the poppers along the back, and she slips her head through the hole first, followed by slipping her back legs through into their sleeves, and positioning her front legs through their sleeves. Finally, her tail pops through its hole at the back end, and her vines emerge through the holed made in the neck to close the poppers, again something I help her with. Then, the moment of truth, she hops onto my shoulders, and I carry her into the bathroom. We stop in front of the mirror, and the way her red eyes flash the second she sees her reflection is all the proof I need.  
  
"What do you think?" She looks at herself in awe, before moving to look sideways on.  
  
("I can't believe this is actually me…this is beautiful Ash, I don't know how I could ever repay you…") She looks up at me with those red eyes, now shining with joyous tears, before craning up and placing a kiss on my cheek. ("I'm lucky to have you, sometimes I think I don't deserve to.") I try to bite back my own tears at her honest plea, and as is usual for me now, fail miserably.  
  
"Don't ever say that, you deserve the best, all that I can give you, and maybe more." She rubs her face against mine, and we both get lumps in out throats, unable to do anything other than look at her reflection. Eventually, she nudges me and smiles.  
  
("I've got another reason never to evolve, this won't fit if I do…") The joke breaks the reflective mood, and we both laugh. ("Hey! I've got an idea!") She takes me by surprise with that outburst, but I stop to listen.  
  
"What is it?" She outlines her plan to me, and by the end of it I'm wearing a grin the Cheshire cat would be at pains to emulate. "Nice idea, very nice. It's just what the doctor, or should I say tailor ordered…."  
  
  
  
Okay, in the next part, things will get even more interesting! Hope you'll read it when it is ready!  
  
C'ya soon  
  
Dan. 


	6. Fortunes' Fool

This is Dan back again, with a new (And rather pretentious) pen name, the reason for which is a long story, nowhere near as interesting as the one I've written. I hope.  
  
Anyhow, here we are, Chapter 6. Unlike the other stories I've written, this is not the last one by a long chalk, it could go on another two or three, maybe another six or seven. I don't know yet! But anyway, big thanks and Hugs to Dragoness (PLEEEASE don't hold up one heart!) BigRed (By the way, the next fic will be as dark as Scar Tissue, I've already got it planned so you might like it) Ember blaze, Nova S for your consistent and supportive reviews, and to all others who have reviewed this fic so far (Including the mysterious *, whoever you may be!)  
  
Disclaimer – I only own imagination and possibly some clothes. None of the characters in this story. Well, I kinda made up the personalities myself, but I don't think it counts.  
  
  
  
Child of the Light One – Chapter VI.  
  
  
  
:I am now setting off on what may be my final flight, every muscle and sinew drawn tight in anticipation. But there is another feeling here. A feeling I have never felt deeply since I was a girl, just eighteen years old, all those centuries ago. To be who I am, emotions can be sensed, but never really experienced. It is not for the Phoenix to care deeply for anyone, to feel despair or joy. It is an existence in limbo, having experienced all the world has to give leads to a life without experience, and where there is nothing to experience there is nothing to live for. But this is an experience long forgotten, an experience a Phoenix never has. Between excitement, guilt and impatience, this emotion is…fear.:  
  
  
  
A headache is pulsing, and I can't ignore it any longer. Not a migraine- like pain, but a steady throb, in synchrony with my heartbeat. A soft patter of rain echoes off a window, and high-pitched snoring rebounds around the room. Also, the low rumble of hushed conversation, and rustling of fabric…I let my eyes creak open, to find myself looking at the window above the kitchenette, which is blurred by rain seeping down it, distorting the visions through it. Distortion or not, it is clear that this will not be a morning for outdoor activities. Slowly, another part of my mind begins waking up. I know who I am, and I know where I am, although this is a different bed to the one I woke up in yesterday…. Now I've just got to work out what it is I'm doing here. I throw the blankets off my body, and gradually sit up, doing my best to ignore the pulsing of my brain. Ohhhh, the last time I felt like this, Gary Oak had spiked the punch at Christmas with vodka and martini. I ended up doing the limbo with him, followed by tripping over a flat floor into first the door, then an altogether more forgiving object which happened to be Ash. He put me to bed, and Brock, and Gary, and Pikachu, and Chikoirta, and, well, half of Pallet, so it seemed. Something slowly registers as being wrong, and I wrap my arms around myself to ward off the sudden chill. Well, that's what's wrong. Lingerie isn't made to keep anyone warm. Interested maybe, but not warm. Come to think of it, what am I doing in my underwear? Last I remember of last night I was wearing a green gown….which is over there….  
  
"Ah, good to see you're awake." I spin around, arms automatically flying to their normal positions when moved by shyness. Ash, tanned skin dulled by the poor light doesn't bat an eyelid, or look away from my face. He just gives me a small smile, a smile which dispels a lot of the awkwardness I was feeling. "It's about ten in the morning, I was going to let you sleep a while longer, but you've woken yourself up." There is something about the way he's talking, like he's walking on eggshells, which tells me something is wrong. There is something I can't pick out, like storm clouds on the edge of vision, which will break soon.  
  
"How did I end up in this? Last thing I remember of last night right now was us watching Romeo and Juliet…" Sepia images of a passionate kiss and whispered words of passion float past, how I'd told him of my fathers passing.  
  
"I undressed you." He states matter-of-factly, making be blush. He doesn't look like he cares, just strolls past me into the kitchen, before filling a kettle with water, fingers working with practised speed. "We'd had a hard, emotionally tiring night, which I'm afraid you'll remember soon. When you do you'll wish you could forget…" The way he says that fills me with dread. He said it like he wishes he couldn't remember, he wishes he could erase the memory from existence. "You'd finally fallen asleep, but you were restless with that gown getting tangled, so I undressed you and carried you into bed." As if on rewind, my memory runs back from the moment I fell asleep. Ashs secret, his transformation, the fire and death of Horsea, the way he'd gone into that trance and told me she'd died, the way I'd laughed, cackled insanely as I'd sat in the bathroom, when the laughter turned to crippling sadness, views of Ash bedecked in scarlet, black and gold. Memories of Cyndaquils explanation. Ash taking the sadness from me, and burning it himself. Unbeknownst to me, my legs sagged under the memory and I fell back onto the bed, and I came to to see Ash cradling me, like I recall him doing last night. Any shyness I might have felt dissolved under a crescendo of conflicting emotions, fear and bereavement clamouring on one side, uncertainty and confusion on another, and buried deep between the desire to be held by him, for him to take my body in his arms and promise to protect me, like my dad would years ago. I feel his hand stroke my bare back, and almost burst into tears. So much, so many conflicts….gradually I just relax again in his lap, and we just listen to the kettle boiling as we gaze into each others eyes. After what feels like eternity and simultaneously all too short a time, he gently slips out from beneath me and gets up to make the tea. Make that hot chocolate. His mystical hot chocolate, he says he has it made specially. I don't know about that, but he rarely drinks it around anyone. It's beyond me why.  
  
"Here you are, now take your time this morning. It's been a hard night for all of us." He speaks softly, nodding past me. I blow on my drink, and crane around to see Totodile and Pikachu snoring loudly on the rather messy middle bed and Cyndaquil quietly napping on the arm of the chair at the foot of the bed I'm sat on.  
  
"Where's Chikorita?" The words are barely out of my mouth when she appears from behind the foot of the bed, hopping up beside me. Oh my. She notes my shock, because she gives me a cheeky wink.  
  
("D'ya like them?") Like, well no. Those pyjamas are a work of art. Whoever does that is a master.  
  
"I wish I had clothes that good. It's beautiful, just beautiful." She shoots Ash a wink this time, which he returns. "Oh, now that person you know has done those, could you get him to do a sleeping bag for Togepi?" I add, sipping on my drink. Ash takes another deep gulp of his, hazel eyes relaxing.  
  
"Yeah, I think I should be able to make him one in a few days, I've got all the fabric I might need at home, just get mum to send it to me…" His mind catches up, but about five seconds after I have.  
  
("Baka!") Chikorita gently scolds him, as I try to make my mouth move in conjunction with my vocal cords.  
  
"You – you made them?" He looks away bashfully at my stunned words, face reddening.  
  
"Yeah." Chikorita just smiles up at me, and I run an eye over the pyjamas again.  
  
"These are magnificent! How long did they take you?" He still doesn't make eye contact, now examining the edge of the bedspread.  
  
"About a day. The sleeping bags take about three each." He made them. The fact keeps spinning in my mind. He made them. How?  
  
"Well it does explain how you knew so much about those socks." I add, taking a deep gulp of the drink, and feeling my mind settle down a little.  
  
"It's just been a little hobby of mine. But since my other hobbies, like fire gazing and journal keeping got snorted at, I decided to keep this one under wraps." A faint trace of anxiety passes across his face, perhaps he feels he's got nothing of his own left to hide, he's an open book. But he drains the cup, and sets to making another set, this time with one for Chikorita. I notice myself becoming more and more relaxed, and lay back on the bed, putting the cup down beside me.  
  
("It works too well, yes?") Chikorita is up beside me, smiling.  
  
"Wha?" Ash picks up my cup and spoons some more powder into it, then pours out the water and milk again.  
  
"Well, hot chocolate has always made me relax, and let things slip. Like just now. But the Pokemon and I, we make our own little concoction. It's hot chocolate, but thanks to some research and know how from Chikorita and Bulbasaur, we've put in some herbs and extracts which act as a relaxant. It's a little strong for you as you've never had it before." He hands me the drink, and sips at his own. Through the gentle clouds which thankfully blunt my once overactive senses, I notice something else is wrong.  
  
"Where's lover boy?"  
  
"Brock? Don't know, he hasn't come home. But Joy gave me a message from him that he is quote "Enjoying some company" end quote. Seems he's got on well with Suzy." He must read the next question right off my mind because he adds "but he tells us to get our minds out of the gutter, if they'd gone there." I let a rueful smile slip through.  
  
"Kinda hard to imagine. Brock on a mutually enjoyed date? Thought has never passed my mind." He settles down onto the bed beside me, and I sink into his shoulder. I can always blame the dip he's made in the mattress for doing so, although some hazy recollection tells me that explanation won't be necessary. Especially when he returns the movement. For a while we just sit there, drinking in silence, Chikorita on his lap drinking hers through a straw, like one big happy family.  
  
"So, how come you didn't run a mile when you found out what I am?" I think for a moment, fragments of guilt re-entering consciousness.  
  
"To be honest, I came within a gnats wing of scooting out of that door. It was only thanks to an agile and persuasive Pikachu that I actually found out the facts. Strange, but as soon as I listened, and thought for a second, I accepted it." He can tell I'm being honest, and he thanks me by slipping his lips to my cheek for a brief moment.  
  
"So, does me being what I am upset you at all?" I shake my head, throwing a slim arm around him.  
  
"No. Not in the least." Something nagging at me finally catches, and I look him in the eye. "And what do you mean, "What I am"? Since when have you been thinking like that? Ash, you're….special, but not because you're a Phoenix, not because you can feel thoughts of others or because you are different, it's because you're you. That's the most important thing to anyone who knows you. Maybe you've matured, maybe you've inherited something you don't want or understand, but what does that matter? I mean look at me and my sisters, I'm adopted but we're still family. We still look out for each other. I remember Dai sitting us down after I'd got singled out, and telling us all that we are all unique, and parentage doesn't make a difference, and the message stuck." I give him an extra tight squeeze, one he returns.  
  
"…I didn't know you were adopted." Ah, yes. My total and utter king secret, which I've just babbled.  
  
"Yeah. I don't mention it, no-one knows. No-one alive, but for my sisters." He's just hugging me, like last night. Ah, what the hell. He knows everything else about me, so I may as well tell him this. It felt so good to talk last night. "Ever wondered why the other three sisters were named after flowers, while I wasn't? It's because my initial parents, the Makis, who named me, were not good people. Mother, she was in prison for some un- named crime by the time I was one and my dad was hardly there. When he was, he got abusive. Physically, although I thank the lord not sexually. Mentally too." A brief memory flashes back to me, my first father poised to slap me back many years ago, then one of two days ago, with a bruise-like streak of eye shadow running down my face, just staring at the image in the mirror…I shake them off, and continue, feeling no guilt, only sadness. "He got found out, it turned out he was a known smuggler for TR. He also got years in some no-name prison. So, I ended up looking for a foster home, and got lucky. The Cerulean gym owners, my new parents, already had three girls, but they all wanted a little sister. My parents also would have liked a fourth child, but due to complications with Lily's birth it wasn't possible. So, when a little girl with an unfortunate past came up parentless in Cerulean, they leapt at the chance. That's why sometimes my sisters wouldn't accept me as a sensational sister, if they were ever in a spiteful mood – all the time, this being my sisters we're talking of – they'd use the adoption card to score points." Unlike before, there is no emotion rush as I finish telling him something so personal, just relief. Relief that I can stop hiding.  
  
"Well, what's in a name?" He gives a sudden, short laugh. "I've just realised mine is a joke, or maybe a hint. Ashton Satoshi – Satoshi from sartor, Latin for tailor, ton a hundred, Ash….tailored from a hundred ashes. Blatant, now I've got an IQ of god knows what." He pauses, then turns serious. "You know it's amazing, but I actually felt that you weren't their sister. Maybe in name you are, but something about you combined with my senses told me. But it was a little hard to check, just picture it. "'Scuse me Misty, but are you the milkmans daughter?" Not an auspicious opening question. I could've checked it out, but the combination of distractions and respect for your wishes were enough of a deterrent." I sigh, and snuggle into him.  
  
"I thought that laziness was a defining factor." I murmur, mischief dancing through my voice, just begging him to take the bait.  
  
"You saying I'm lazy?" He has.  
  
"Let me think…..yes, I guess I am." He shifts slightly, turning towards me and dropping his arm behind me.  
  
"I prefer the term "laid back"." I smirk, the comeback hopping fully formed onto my tongue.  
  
"Laid back? Yeah, just like I'm laid back right now – Aaaaaah!" The room spins around, and suddenly I'm flat on my back across the bed.  
  
"Care to repeat that?" He laughs, pinning my arms with his legs, and making tickling movements with his fingers. God no, not that!  
  
"No! I give in!" He nods and smiles, starting to ease his weight off me. "Or maybe I had my fingers crossed?" In a flash he's back, and with a sly grin, places his fingers just below the crook of my arm. It's about then I realise I'm not even wearing a shirt, and I'm completely immobilised.  
  
"Okay, you asked for it…" With that, he slowly slides them down my sides, barely touching my sensitive skin.  
  
"Ah-aaaah-aaaaaaah! Stop! Please stop!" He does, about a centimetre from my waist, before looking back up at me with pure mischief.  
  
"Are you sure? Because if you're not, I'm sure I could find somewhere else to tickle to change your mind." A thousand options flood through my thoughts, ranging from the obvious to the devious, and then lingering on the downright saucy. Lingering for just a little longer than might be recommended, given the current situation. But hey, a girl can dream.  
  
"Go on, try me…" Well, that came out of nowhere. I think I even surprised myself, let alone him judging by the way his pupils dilated.  
  
"Well, if you insist, I'll take that as a challenge." Slow as a cloud skates across the sky, he places his fingertips on my neck….  
  
("Geez, get a room!") Pikachu sniggers from somewhere nearby, snapping the hypnotic trance we'd fallen into.  
  
"Toto-toto dile, toto, diile toto diiiiile!" I hear screams of laughter from around me in several different tongues. Ash says something back in Totodiles tongue, subduing him but redoubling the laughter from everyone else.  
  
"You really don't want to know what he said. I wonder who's been showing him X-rated films….Lover boy is going to have some explaining to do when he gets back, after I've rinsed both their mouths out with soap." He leans over and falls to one side, and I sit up and try to rub some feeling into my now numb arms.  
  
"You're going to have to teach me this translation ability, I hate being left out." I slip off the bed and start shuffling around for some wearable clothes. With little success, I'm going to have to go and get some new stuff. Once I've rung my sisters, that is. Finally, I find a slightly crumpled grey T-shirt and Ash goes into his bag and tosses me a pair of black shorts. A little loose, but who's checking? Eventually I walk out of the room, heading for the lobby as Ash goes to have a shower. I need to know what happened at the gym last night, and more importantly, what's going to happen now.  
  
  
  
I peel myself off my sleeping place, feeling a rather urgent need, and without opening my eyes groggily stumble to the bathroom. Uh, no I don't, that was a wall….and that was a bed I just stubbed my toe on. Okay, so either there's been some nocturnal interior decoration, or I'm not waking up where I did yesterday. Now if I can just get this herd of Tauros out of my head, and work out exactly where I am, and find the lavatory, all will be good with the world. Maybe. Soft snoring from my right signifies someone else is here, a woman, and that sure as hell isn't Misty snoring. I've heard her snore enough times to pick it out of an ID parade. Slowly I let my eyes creak open, and thank god it's overcast outside. I think that one of those Tauros stampeding through my head has done something on my tongue, either that or something crawled inside and died. Sight drifts to the bed, and the figure sleeping in it. Suzy, well, that's one less thing to worry about. The amount of times I've suffered from alcohol amnesia is few, but each time there's this feeling of dread, dread that someone later on is going to give you that telltale smile, followed by the words "do you remember last night?" which can reduce a grown man to a quivering wreck. Like that time at the new year party, when Ash ran that line past me the next morning, and I found out that for a double with lime I'd French kissed someone….who was more than happy at the time, having the same incentive, but hasn't been able to look Ash in the eye since. It was only by blackmailing Misty with tales of what she'd done that night (again thanks to my good friend Ash) she'd kept it under wraps. So only myself, those two and the other kisser know, and he isn't saying anything.  
  
"Vul?" Vulpix hops up onto the edge of the bed, and I reach out to give her a brief petting. A good sign, if I'd made a prat of myself last night Vulpix would have something to say about it. She studies Suzy for a moment, then turns her gaze up at me with a clear "breakfast" look.  
  
"Okay, but you're going to have to show me where she keeps it, don't forget I'm not part of the furniture yet." She nods, and leads me to a cupboard.  
  
"Vul!" She prods the door with her nose, and gives me an expectant stare.  
  
"I'm going to have to get Pikachu and Chikorita to teach you how to open doors and work tin openers, you know." I jibe gently, opening the door and drawing out a tin of food. Now, where is the can opener…ah. I quickly open the food can and tip it onto a plate, setting it down in front of her.  
  
"She normally won't take it without a salad garnish." Suzy sits up, bags under her eyes darker than her hair, and yawns. "God, what did I have to drink last night?"  
  
"From what I can remember, about a litre of Tequila. And that was just an aperitif."  
  
"Yeah. But do you remember my proposal?" She looks concerned, which is worrying.  
  
"Yes…" She hesitates, before speaking again.  
  
"I just want to say…I meant every word, and still do. If you want to, that is." I can't stop a massive grin of delight breaking like a wave over my face.  
  
"You're on. Why on earth would I want to pass up a chance like this?" And a chance with you, I add mentally.  
  
"Great!" She slides to the edge of the bed, and slowly gets to her feet before grimacing violently. "Oh, and I don't know if it's considered impolite for a lady to be rather violently sick on the morning after a date, but I'll have to leave that to chance…" She mutters quickly while running into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. This noise is rapidly followed by another sound, one which suggests the person involved is trying to exorcise their stomach through their mouth. Never pleasant at the best of times, and this definitely isn't. I open a window of the ground floor apartment and stick my head out into the car park, trying to ignore the sound emanating from the bathroom which is begging me to make a kind donation to the god of vomit, all over the red convertible parked below the window. A little fresh air and a minute of frantic ignorance later, the toilet flushes, and she emerges more than a little dishevelled.  
  
"Feeling better?" She sags down, trying to pull her clothes into a more realistic position than the ridiculously skewed way they are now.  
  
"There's nothing left in me to feel. For better or for worse." She groans, flopping backwards. "Drinking all that tequila in the bar was pushing it, but bringing a donner kebab and another bottle back here for the rest of the night was hurtling into it at sixty miles an hour." She drags herself over to the cupboard, pulls out some aspirin, fills a glass with water, and downs it in one.  
  
"I think we either need breakfast or another drink for this hangover." I moan, clutching throbbing temples. God, even my toes are aching.  
  
"Don't…mention…food…." She clutches at her stomach, and for a moment it looks like she might decorate the red convertible herself.  
  
"Here." I pour out the remaining dregs of the drink into two glasses, and we both down them. "They say the best remedy in the morning is the hair of the dog, and we need the hair of the rabbit, donkey and camel on top of it, I think." We both close our eyes for a moment, feeling the burn trace down, and settle. I put the bottle down, and head for the bathroom rapidly.  
  
"You don't want to go in there for a few minutes." Suzy says with a small smile. "Not unless you like the smell of sick in the morning, and fancy standing…." True. But it does leave me with a bit of a problem, so I break her off.  
  
"Suzy, alcohol and drinking a lot lead to lots of things, and the need to pee is one. Now, I think that I am going to explode and end up in several pieces unless urgent action is taken!." I groan, skittering into the room, trying to ignore the laughter from Vulpix and Suzy's warning cry of "Don't say I didn't warn you!" as I rush in, unzipping in one fluid moment, then a moment of ultimate relief…and a funny feeling around my feet…  
  
"OHMYGOD!" My scream echoes around the room as I realise that Suzy didn't quite finish her sentence, but why she did warn me not to come in here. Because it seems she didn't quite get to the toilet in time for the first wave….which I am standing in barefoot. I think I am going to throw up…  
  
You know, I'm spot on.  
  
  
  
I feel a little guilty as the noise of someone speaking to huey on the big white telephone leaks into the room, but I look down at the quietly hysterical Vulpix with a winsome grin.  
  
"Well, I did warn him, didn't I?"  
  
  
  
I sit down in the quiet room, and listen to the rain patter its unique rhythm on the window pane. Chibi cotton clad Chikorita climbs into my lap and cuddles into me, but doesn't speak, perhaps sensing the mood change. Pikachu flops onto a pillow again, muttering something about hating rain and too early in the morning, beside the comatose Cyndaquil. Splashing from the bathroom signifies Totodile will be using a mop later if he has any intention of getting lunch. So, almost total silence descends, only permeated by sounds of water, and the gentle breaths taken by people at rest spinning a haunting yet peaceful sigh, bringing images of a morning breeze flowing through the rushes aside a tranquil lake. Something said by Misty just minutes ago seems to echo. "Since when have you been thinking like that?" It rebounds across the placid scene framed in my minds eye, disturbing the dawn sunrise. I don't know really, what I think about myself. I haven't had the chance to think about it, since my first transformation there has been little but chaos and distraction. I suppose I'm feeling so many things that I can't really define any of them, just like you can't see the wood for the trees, there being so many. I subconsciously let my fingers drift across the leaf of the one in my lap, and sense her sighing, barely beyond a whisper. I'm so confused. I do feel some excitement, that I have the potential to become one so important. This may be a gift. I gaze at the clouds weeping outside, and imagine, just imagine. Above that layer severing the light from the earth I could soar, eternally in the sun, resting on air as if it were a mattress. Freedom. That word is taken to a new level by the possibilities of the new life. People say they are free, and they are, as long as they don't drive on that side of the street, do wait for the green light, don't go more than ten percent over the speed limit. They can go anywhere as long as people know where the are going, why and for how long, with who and what. But I could go from here to there to everywhere, and anywhere in between without restriction. See what I've never seen, be where I've never been, view the world from such a height that it almost becomes one. Until petty boundaries between countries, the blood of millions spilt over many years to move it but miles, are insignificant. So that fighting and war are indiscernible from the phases of normal life. The senses I'd felt for that briefest moment embellished into me for eternity. Sight, smell and hearing creating a unique multi-dimensional world, euphoric beyond human feeling. The sense of power, being truly in control. No longer being swept along by the river of life, fighting the current, creating my own existence. It is all so powerful, tempting. Another image embraces my minds eye, one of me skating across a dusk sky on beautiful wings of red, gold, black, white. Grace beyond understanding, barely within the confines of belief, viewing the day to day happenings of the universe with a wise eye. Like a god. And the prospect of immortality, never having fear of death, the overriding fear containing almost everyone. But me? Have I ever been afraid of death? I've hurtled down canyons and cliffs, faced danger and fought fate for others time and time again. But never for me. There has always been someone I'm trying to protect. My eyes skim across the monochrome grey skyline, trying to sense the feeling of eternity. There is always a horizon, a boundary, even to sight. Somewhere I can judge myself against. The idea of immortality, it's strange. It is not human to think of anything as eternal. As Spring precedes Summer, preceeds Autumn, preceeds Winter, preceeds Spring, life is a cycle. To the point it's impossible to define which point of the cycle came into being first, if any point did. So what if the cycle were to break, it became eternal spring. Forever the season of new life….yet after a long period the world would meld into a continuous picture, events happening time and time again until they no longer have any significance. Then I would crave change, but none could come. Is that truly life, or merely drawn-out existence? My conscience skitters to the pessimistic view, perhaps instigated by the heavier hammering of water on the window generating a hiss throughout the room, or the still heavier cloud draining all colour from the room with its lifeless light, creating a strangely pensive and depressive energy. To view the world from such a level where war is no longer significant, that would be amazing, but it would also blind me to the lives of individuals. I would cease caring for people, perhaps view them as ants scurrying around the complex of humanity, not considering their individual feelings and emotions, only looking with disdain on the crawling infestations across the land, which from a distance are nothing more than anthills. All those sensations heightened, but could I feel nothing with them but that which is physical? I was told I could sense and see emotions. But with whom would I share my own? My heart begins to pound as the slow cycle of thought revolves to the thing I most fear. Being alone. If I become the Phoenix, I could never appear in public again. I could be captured, people would send out their Pokemon to fight me and I would have to defend myself, yet I could feel the pain of the ones I fought, their fear and aggression. I would live the life of a recluse, beyond human eyes. But my Pokemon, Pikachu, Cyndaquil, Totodile, Chikorita and all the others, they could never come with me. I would have to leave them in the loving care of my friends, and never get the chance to say goodbye. To never see Totodile dance with joy, Pikachu gulping ketchup, Cyndaquil blowing smoke rings or Chikoritas red eyes fill with delight again. Like that moment she got her new present, as a child on Christmas morning, when she finds Santa has been and gone, leaving mysterious gifts. My eyes flit down, and gaze at the now silently sleeping form on my lap, with beautifully patterned Ash and Chicory, and the embroidery on the front tying the two, signifying our promise to be together forever. I swallow down tears, and look away. Perhaps I would lose my current mind, become inhuman. A haunting thought, but one that would be infinitely better than to be perpetually hounded by memories of human life, a happy life with those I love but cannot ever meet. My mother, kind mouth smiling, telling me to change my underwear every chance she got, just to remind herself who she is and what she means to me. Tracey, his wondrous gifts of insight and art, and his honesty. Brock, his little habits, his cooking, the way he goes off around any pretty girl, and his ability to diffuse an argument between myself and Misty. Misty….this time, I'm unable to prevent a tear slipping out. Misty, we'd finally become one. The girl I love, loved from the moment she set her eyes on me. Those eyes, like a tropical sea, and as full of life and vigour. Each time they gleamed with delight, shined with anger, glistened with sadness, flashed with envy is ingrained in memory. What I would leave behind, love unlike any I've ever felt. So fresh, so new, so right. If I still retained my memory if I were to become the Phoenix, and to know what I could never again experience, I would rather die. Die now, and be spared even a moment of the agony. Yes I could see her thoughts, but I could never again kiss her, run hands through her hair. We could never be together, raise a family and celebrate an anniversary. When it comes down to it, isn't that what life is about? Not for the repetition day by day of events, but those special little moments when life is wonderful? Those times when you have to pinch yourself to ensure you're not dreaming? Laughing so hard you cry, euphoria beyond reality, passion of almost fatal intensity? Those times when you take a photograph, and when you look back you're doing something really stupid, but it doesn't matter simply because it feels so right? To never experience one of those moments again, to never touch the one you love. I can't take that. More tears run free, I can't even wipe them away. The fear, fear beyond that of death. If there is a heaven or hell, I would rather take my chance than go knowingly into what is eternal hell. Eternal hell is eternal life, eventually nothing will ever be new or different, to never feel but have the memory of feeling….and I would rather die than live with it.  
  
("You okay?") Cyndaquil shuffles to my side, and peers up at me. ("I guess not.") He sighs, sitting beside me.  
  
("I'm scared, scared like I've never been before….") I can't help but let a little terror seep into my tone as I speak to him in his own tongue, which makes him look concerned. He's never known me to be terrified of anyone, and neither have I, not until I started in this vicious circle.  
  
("But you would be a god. Does that not matter?") I know he's just said that to open me up, but I accept the chance.  
  
("No, it would be an honour, but why should it? The fact I could be alone for eternity is not worth any level of esteem or respect.") He plays the role to keep me going, with an expression of confusion.  
  
("Yet you would have all these abilities, and never need to worry again.") He leans into my open arms, giving me that cute short-sighted look only he can.  
  
("Does that matter to me? I'd do anything for you, but to do this seems like a waste. I can't live my life without you, without the ones I care for. That is my life, protecting those I love.") He smiles at this, relaxing back into my grasp.  
  
("These are the things you must tell the Phoenix. Although fate has the deciding vote if the change were to go ahead, you may be able to persuade the Phoenix to repeal her choice. And that is your answer to the question you dare not ask, how to stay who you are.") He gives a brief look down with kind eyes to Chikorita in my lap. ("If you need help with persuasion, look to us, the four of us. But most important of all, look to Misty, she can help you when you meet the Phoenix, the Phoenix can sense the strength of the bond between people, and a bond strong as yours may persuade her to let you go.")  
  
("…You are a living miracle.") I whisper gently in his ear, drawing him further up in my arms, and placing him on my shoulder. ("I think I should keep you there as an advisor.") He laughs a little at this, before shaking his head.  
  
("I'd rather not annoy either of the two who already use these shoulders. They're feisty enough to dispute it, and won't forget in a hurry. But I would like to spend more time out of my Pokeball, this life is a real eye- opener.") He murmurs, gripping onto my neck as I get up.  
  
("You got it. I think I should get rid of all my Pokeballs now! Pikachu, then Chikorita, now you, and soon Totodile. I just hope Snorlax doesn't take a shine to it.") I grab a glass, and fill it with milk, before downing it in one.  
  
("By the way, next time we get a Pizza, could I have red peppers not green? I tend to prefer red, they're more potent.") I laugh, and nod.  
  
("Sure. Now, where is it…ah, here we are!") I let Cyndaquil hop from my shoulder, and set about making our breakfasts, waiting for Misty to get back.  
  
  
  
The phone goes dead, and I screw up my brow in puzzlement. It had been an emotional call, it turned out that the pool was being renovated, and was drained of the water. Some uncompleted electronics had started the fire, and when the smoke alarms went off, all the Pokeballs where the water Pokemon were being kept in the meantime popped open by an automated system. While the other Pokemon knew the new system, Horsea didn't having never been in a fire drill there, and so got confused. She'd ended up in the main arena where the fire had started and had spread to the roof, and it collapsed on her. My sisters were all distraught, they'd even lost their habit of adding "like" to every sentence. Lily particularly was beyond speech. We'd consoled each other and I'd checked they were all okay, and than no-one else had been hurt. But at the end of the call, Daisy had asked if I had any money. They had the Gym insured, but they needed some deposit money to cover possible extras. I'd asked them what they'd done with the money my Aunt had left us, and they were "What money?". I said about the several thousand dollars we'd each been left, and they were nonplussed. So, I promised to send them as much as I could spare, and we'd said our goodbyes. And right now, I'm totally confused. I turn around, and as I'm about to return to my room, a voice stops me.  
  
"Penny for your thoughts?" Traceys polite enquiry stops me in my tracks.  
  
"I think that fifty would be more suitable." I reply quietly, without turning around.  
  
"I heard about the Gym fire, and came around to see if I could do anything for you…" He puts a soft hand on my shoulder, one which I accept.  
  
"Well, you could keep me company." I murmur, starting off towards my room as he falls into step with me, watching out of the corner of his eye. We get to the door and I slip the keycard in, nudging it open with my hip. The smell of something cooking hits my nose at the same time as the sight of Ash with Brocks apron on and a spatula in his hand hits my eyes.  
  
"Well, I thought that maybe I could rustle up something for the two of…oh, hi Tracey! I'll put some more bacon on." He looks a touch sheepish as he pops more food into the saucepans, and quite impressively manages to avoid burning anything. I notice his shoulders tensing, and walk over to him to reassure him.  
  
"Hey, it's okay. He doesn't have to know anything if you don't want him to. I invited him back here for a bit of a chat, it has been a while since we really caught up." He relaxes just a bit, and I give him a pat on the shoulder as I go back to sit on the bed near Tracey. Pikachu wakes up as I sit down, and Totodile appears from the bathroom, probably drawn by the scent of food, with an air of feigned innocence. He's probably drowned the bathroom floor again. A few minutes of idle chit-chat, and Ash deposits plates of what appear to be cholesterol heaven in front of us. Of course, who can resist the occasional fry-up? Especially when he's garnished it with broccoli we'd bought while shopping yesterday, placed with maximum irony atop a slice of sizzling bacon and fried egg, sunny side up. We settle down to eat, yet I get the feeling that Tracey isn't just here to comfort me and catch up, but that he's perhaps taking mental notes too…  
  
  
  
He looks nervous again. Sitting almost huddled beside Misty, eyes carefully on his breakfast. They flick up to me, then flick back down when they meet mine. Very strange.  
  
"Ash, there's no point in hiding it, sooner or later everyone will find out…" He doesn't respond, just eases back slightly and opens his shoulders. It's then I notice the strange shape of his chest. Even my mind is stunned, he's got breasts…and I his expression screams that this is just the tip of the iceberg. An iceberg which could sink the Titanic, and have the Mayflower for dessert.  
  
"I knew you were hiding something. How long have I known you? It was clear to me from the moment we met yesterday." I speak gently, as I can see something in him on the brink of panic. "Now, would you like to tell me a little more?"  
  
"No. But it's not like I have a choice." He slides closer to Misty, who places an arm around him.  
  
"Come on, it's okay. Alright." She soothes, shooting me a "patience" look.  
  
"I don't know, I really don't know…" The muttered reply.  
  
"Why? I know, it's not as if he's a stranger…" He jerks away with sudden violence, and begins to shake. With fear?  
  
"You can't understand. It's coming soon, and I feel wrong. Contained, like the main attraction at an exhibition. My outlook is becoming less, less human…" What?!  
  
"What do you mean less human?" I curse the reflex of impatience, and continue in a soft tone, like trying to tease a child out of a sulk. "Ash, I guess this is hard for you, but please understand that I'm worried about you, and want to know if I can help at all." Again that twitch, reminiscent of being physically struck. Eventually, a croaked whisper emerges, like an empty bag being crumpled in a clenched fist.  
  
"But you can't."  
  
"Well, I'll explain to you Tracey, at least what I know." With a tone of forced gaiety, Misty turns to me and starts talking. "Ash, he's been feeling odd for a while, and as you can see he keeps changing….shape. Well, I found out last night, he's something called…"  
  
"Quiet!" Misty stops dead, aghast at Ashs tone. He shakes his head slowly, and swallows hard. "Sorry, didn't mean to shout. But if I'm going to be broadcast to the world, I'm the one who will do it." Slowly turning to me, fingers working through ebony hair as if seeking something to grip on to, he seems to asses me. I just gaze at him levelly, waiting. He knows that I know that he is going tell me eventually, but he still looks reluctant.  
  
"You know, you don't have to tell me…" I find myself speaking softly "…but you know you can trust me. You trusted me years ago…" Our eyes simultaneously flick to Misty, and back to each other. On Trovita island, aged twelve, he'd admitted to me that he liked Misty. Well, adored was the actual word he used. And just a year ago, when we'd last met, he admitted to me he'd love her to be his wife sometime in the future. "…And I've never broken my promises, or told you any lies." His hazel tinted gaze drops for a moment, in contemplation.  
  
"Yes, I know." It moves back to meet mine, strengthened by trust. "Have you ever heard of the legendary Phoenix?" I incline my head, and wait for continuation. "Well, say hello to it's daughter." Two and two click, and I'm sure it makes five, just for a second.  
  
"You're saying….you are?" I fight to keep disbelief out of my tone.  
  
"I am. And the time is near." It's a struggle, just to keep my mouth from gaping. Misty gives out a choked sob, not unnoticed by Ash. She seems strong, but no doubt she's scared of losing him as well as her gym and Horsea. I think it would be devastating to her, beyond anything she's experienced before.  
  
"Oh boy." An uneasy silence descends, only broken by Pikachu snoring and the occasional squeak of "Chi.." from the dreaming Chikorita. Ah, the change of subject I was waiting for.  
  
"So, these are the amazing pyjamas Brock was speaking of." I reach over and pick her up gently, and she gives a sleepy "chi-koh." Before snuggling into me and finding a more comfortable position.  
  
"The very same. I knew Brock wouldn't keep his trap shut." I can see why he didn't.  
  
"You really should go into business. People would pay hundreds for something like these."  
  
"Ah, it's nothing really." He says modestly, picking the unusually silent Totodile up and fetching him some anchovies.  
  
"Pyjamas. Oh…" Misty sags down, sitting next to some clothes at the foot of her bed. She reverently picks them up, and I look over them, at the Horseas patterned across them. Ash quickly sets Totodile down with his breakfast and moves to comfort her as she draws them close to her chest, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. I sense the need for space and make for the lobby as the first trace of a whimper echoes through my ear. At least I can do something useful, and track down where that money came from, with a few of my less widely known skills. I'm not just a watcher of life, I'm also a watcher of technology…and Oak isn't just a professor, he keeps close tabs on illegal Pokemon dealings. He taught me a few tricks, which might just tell me where it all came from.  
  
  
  
About twenty minutes later, I clicked to close the internet connection, wishing I never had opened it. The trail was well hidden and crossed back, but I'd kept following and, well, opened a huge can of worms. I'll have to make sure she isn't in earshot….  
  
  
  
"Hi!" I look up from the television screen to see Brock and Suzy waltz in through the propped open door, looking rather dazed but cheerful nonetheless. Tracey behind me puts down the drawing he's making of Chikorita and Cyndaquil in a sleepy heap and gets up himself.  
  
"Oh, hi Brock! And you Suzy. I trust that you didn't have to employ mallet power at any point?" I cheekily ask her, much to Brocks chagrin.  
  
"Nope. Besides, I prefer Vulpix power!" The silky fire fox adds a "Vul" of agreement.  
  
"Where's your lover boy?" Brock comes back. Well, it would've worked a few days ago. Hell, yesterday even.  
  
"Oh, next door." I inwardly cackle as his face slides from amusement to confusion, to surprise.  
  
"Well, that's uh, that's good." I think I shocked him a little.  
  
("You don't know the half of it. Or the quarter, or the eighth for that matter.") Pikachu sniggers from a cushion, producing a single raised eyebrow from him, and a glare from me.  
  
"Don't put ideas into his head! It's not like we did anything!" I pause, and give Suzy and Brock a single snide look. "Well, nothing illegal anyway."  
  
"Well, uh, anyway, there is a reason we've both come here." Suzy puts in with a tone of clear nervousness. My ears prick straight up, and I'm sure Pikachus and Traceys have too. "Could you get Ash?" Yes, now I'm very interested.  
  
"Sure, gimmie a sec." I walk to the wall, and bang on it three times. "Well, he said he wanted a little privacy." I add in reply to their blank stares.  
  
"Yeah, he said he was busy." Tracey, since he went out a couple of hours ago when Ash was calming me down, has had the attitude of someone cradling a bomb in their hands whilst on an ice rink.  
  
"Yeah, what's the problem?" Ash reappears sucking a finger, Totodile laughing at his feet. Another sewing accident, perhaps? "Oh, hi Brock, didn't hear you come in." He instantly seems wary, nervous.  
  
"He's got news. Don't know what it is." I fill in, and give the two breeders a look which tells them to start talking.  
  
"Uh, I, that is we, uh, Suzy has invited me to become her partner in business for her breeding and treatment centre." I find a smile break out over my mouth, the same as the others in the room.  
  
"Wow, congrats Brock! I know this has always been your dream!" Ash is the first to respond, despite the fact he doesn't look right, a little uncomfortable. "It'll be really odd not having you around, who's gonna keep us in line?"  
  
"Cheers man, it's partly you who encouraged me to accept, you always reminded me that we all have dreams to follow. And as for you two, it seems it's already sorted out. Besides, you've been going on like an old married couple for years." He claps Ash on the shoulder, as I reach out to grab him to give my congratulations. I give him a strong hug, and then turn to Suzy and ask her how it happened. Slowly, with a supply of tea and biscuits from the other two, and with an interested set of Pokemon around us, we slowly pick through the details of the previous night. It's only about half way through I notice that Tracey and Ash are having their own little conversation. I nudge Pikachu, and glance to Ash and Tracey, a suggestion that she should keep an ear on them. She nods, and we continue the discussion, right down to the drunken rendition of Delilah which it is traditional to do when off your face. Apparently, Brock was so good he got underwear thrown at him. After about five minutes, I hear Ash gasp, and swivel to look at Pikachu, who does her best to seem innocent. But it's pointless. He knows she was listening, purely because he must have picked up on her concentration. His psychic abilities must be kicking in.  
  
("He was saying something about money and present, and feeling like someone needed a bit of a good time…") She squeaks, and he drops his eyes. In a moment, I'm upright, startling Cyndaquil and Chikorita, as the penny drops.  
  
"You. You…why?" He still can't meet my eyes, and mumbles something incoherent. "Why, why did you send me that money? That's why my sisters don't have any!" Shock is being replaced by bubbling anger, anger that he'd do this. "No distant aunt? Just you taking pity on poor little Misty?" Brock also snaps upright at this, expression littered with surprise.  
  
"I just wanted to give you a gift. But you'd never accept…." My raging fury cuts him off, glowing with the intensity of a flame from the Phoenix itself.  
  
"You know how much I hate pity! I spent my life being this poor isolated soul, no-one saw me for me, only who I started life as!" His mahogany eyes fill with tears, sinking with shame as my anger boils to truly scalding intensity.  
  
"But…" He almost sobs as I slap him. Hard. Something has just possessed me for these few moments, I don't know what, but every single time I had been looked down on for the whole of my life, from early days with my mother, through to my sisters christening me the runt, piled in. Those demons, demons I want to fight so badly of my self-doubt and hatred, joining forces to create a swirling black tempest at such an innocuous thing.  
  
"No buts! I thought you respected me for who I am, but now it just seems you felt I was a charity case. Well I don't want it!" I storm towards the door, past the stunned Suzy and the astonished Brock, and wrench the door open. "So, if you don't mind, I'm going out, I'm going to think about things, and maybe tonight, I'll go to Cerulean, where I belong. And Work for my money." With that, I seem to step through the door unbidden by desire to, and slam it shut. And I just stride out of the centre, with nothing but my pride. I know that I'll have to go back, but I just need to calm down, and think about things, until I know exactly what it is I'm feeling. Maybe then, I'll be ready to go back. Something screams at me, that I'm a over proud idiot who is too bitter to admit she's wrong, and somewhere deep down I know it's the truth. But hell, while I'm angry, at least I'm right….  
  
  
  
I look up, sight blurred and part obscured by black hair, to see concerned faces surround me. All I can say to them are a pathetic few words.  
  
"And now, it begins…"  
  
  
  
:It is but hours until the transition. I can sense him from great distance now, growing more discernible by the minute. Tonight. He can speak to me, feel what it is to be me. I will feel what it is to be him. I gave up that right when I became the Phoenix, to feel human, but I will feel it again. With the knowledge that I will never have the right to own the psyche again, but the knowledge that I do wish to die will be compounded by that brief taste of change. Still the moment grows ever closer, each moment bringing the goal tantalisingly nearer, each narrowing the distance yet never seeming to make a real difference. But it will come, and then maybe, just maybe, I can pass away at last….: 


	7. The time is...now...

It's time for chapter 7, out of 9. This is not as long as the other chapters, the precursor to the climactic chapter which will come next. Perhaps I should keep them shorter, since only 3 people found the time to read my last chapter! Big thanks to Dragoness (Does that mean you're going to continue One Heart?) BigRed (Sorry if the adoption part seemed forced, I tried to drop it in quietly as a link to chapter 2 and add depth to the end) and Ember blaze (Thanks for your comments, I'm not sure I deserve such praise, and I didn't know the difference between Mahogany and Hazel!) for your reviews!  
  
Disclaimer – I do not own any of the Characters depicted in this work of fiction, if I did they would have already appeared in this on television!  
  
  
  
Child of the Light one – Chapter VII  
  
  
  
:A city swims into view. I think once upon a time I might have considered it impressive, a sprawling urban jungle filled with bright lights, vibrant sights and intoxicating nights. Now it is almost below notice, just one of thousands. The people within it each experiencing their own lives with joy, despair, glory and failure, gorging until replete on moments after moment of the most amazing feeling there is. The feeling of, well, feeling. It is something that I lost, after a hundred lifetimes, the sense of true experience. I am known to be wise, and I am, but only in the ways of the world, never the whys. I know once, before I accepted this fate, that I knew. This tears at me more than the monotony of existence, the faint knowledge that there is more. I cast an eye around the landscape, searching for somewhere close where I cannot be seen by human eyes. I do not wish to be disturbed until tonight….:  
  
  
  
I lie on the bed and listen glumly to the conversation going on on the other side of the thin wooden wall, and feel the urge to burn it down, starting with the horrendous off-white wallpaper (woodchip). There's nothing worse than listening to someone who knows little about what is going on trying to explain it to two with no idea. Ash, behind me, is working away with his kit at something new, and doing his best not to listen, and ignore the way his arms are darkening. With red, downy feathers. I think I'm finally beginning to understand what he's feeling now… As Tracey makes another glaring omission in his explanation, I almost bang my head against the bedstead in impatience.  
  
("You want me to go and explain?") Pikachu notes my frustration from the chest of drawers from which she's been sitting morosely and watching Ash work.  
  
("Yeah, you know I would but they wouldn't have a blind clue what I'm squeaking on about.") She jumps down from her seat, leaps for the door handle, pulls it down and kicks it open. Another flash of yellow and she's gone. I hear a knock, and next door opening, and Pikachu explaining to Brock why she's here. I know she'll get him to translate, and then maybe they'll find out the truth. The truth, not that it's better than fiction in this case. And I can't do a frigging thing!  
  
("Hey, cool down!") Totodile shoots a stream of water over the curtain I just set alight to on the end wall, my flames flaring spontaneously in pure rage. I can't cool down, I somehow feel responsible. I could have spotted this earlier, much earlier. From the very first time it happened, we could have prepared. He needn't have gone through the confusion and fear of not knowing what was wrong with him, Misty could have prepared for the shock, Brock and his mother may have accepted him by now. Hell, his mother doesn't even know! He could have gone up to face the Phoenix feeling accepted, comfortable, knowing he wasn't or wouldn't be shunned by his human friends. But no, I missed it.  
  
("Hey, what's eating at you?") Chikorita asks as I growl and bury my head into the pillow. I'm currently wishing I'd paid more attention to the life of people to this point. If I'd paid as much attention to Ash and his friends as he did to me and mine, well maybe….I don't know! It's taken me a whole day with him to begin to understand. He's scared, but tries his best to hide it for our sake. Now I can see what this means to him. Pokemon, we being so diverse have never thought to judge by appearance, but humans are not the same. Chikorita explained this to me. And also the status of being a god is of no use to anyone who only wishes to lead a normal life. He's never going to be able to do the things he wants to most, with the ones he loves. I've been so blind, so blind.  
  
*Cyndaquil, you couldn't have done anything.* I stretch around to see Ash staring at me, an expression of reproach on his face. *It is an irreversible process, and time would have made no difference, I would still be here and in this situation. If anything, blame me for not letting you out of your Pokeball enough…* I give him a thankful smile, and he returns to his work.  
  
("Cyndaquil?") Chikorita looks confused at the abrupt mood change.  
  
("Don't worry, I'm just getting a reality check, that's all.") That doesn't exactly make sense to me, let alone her, but she takes it at face value. Totodile hops onto the bed beside me, and watches us talk.  
  
("Ah, okay.") Now she looks worried. ("Wish I could get one of those, I've had enough of panicking.") I can tell. She's been beside me for about an hour, and I can't say she's gone ten seconds without fidgeting or sighing.  
  
("Perhaps I can give you one.") I make sure her red eyes are linked with mine, before beginning in a calm yet serious tone. ("Sometime soon, Ash will go to meet the Phoenix, with us at his side. It will be judged if he is to become the Phoenix, and he may become the god, or the cycle of the current god may continue. If Ash stays as he is, we can go on with out normal lives, well, almost. But if he is to become the Phoenix…") I look around to Ash, waiting for him to finish.  
  
"…You can do whatever you wish. I will leave you in the care of Misty and Brock, but if you do not wish to stay with them, you can leave and live in the wild, or find another trainer to live with. And I promise that, even from afar, I will watch over you and guard you from danger." He puts his needle down, and pets us one at a time. "I would like you to promise that you will not forget me either." Silence, the three of us pondering how exactly to put what we want to say.  
  
("How could we?") Totodile, surprisingly, opens up first. ("Working and living with you is something I could never replace!")  
  
("You know how I feel.") Chikorita is doing her best to hold back tears, which as usual with her mercurial temperament is not very well. ("I could never forget you. If I were ever to leave you, I think I would die myself…") She begins crying softly, tears eloquent as any words spoken. I would love to comfort her, but I have to try and work out what I am to say. The room grows hauntingly silent, the whole world seemingly waiting with baited breath for my response.  
  
("Well, you are my past, my present, my future.") I am almost startled by the exposed, raw feeling in my words, but plough on. ("How could I fight for anyone else? Heaven is a pale comparison. So many treat us inferiors, you do not only treat us as equals but view us as superiors.") I feel a lump grow in my throat, but shrug it off for the moment. ("If my life was not this one, would it be worth living? I don't know, I would rather sacrifice myself to the god I truly believe in if you were to be her than live in the past…") It is unlike me to become emotional, but I cannot resist any longer, the shadow following me for the last day finally grasps me. Chikorita wraps herself around me and holds tightly as I break into deep cries of despair. It is the feeling of despair I have never experienced before, jointed with the feeling of being the angel of darkness, having to explain to his disbelieving, then despairing and anguished face the exact tortures which he may face. Of course, he understands now, and he does not hold anything against me, if anything he's truly thankful. Little consolation. I've barely begun tasting the banquet which is life and it's going to be taken away. Who knows if the next course is another as varied and filling as this, or bread and water? I know how naïve I am, so young and sheltered, and it is hard for me to think of the future as being anything other than another long sequence of battles and trials, like before. Who could go back to weak shandy after finest wine? Perhaps I'm greedy and self-centred, but I don't know, I really don't.  
  
("Sssshhh.") Chikorita gives me a pacifying cuddle, and I hear Totodile sniffling from somewhere near me. Perhaps I'm not the only one who senses the bottom falling out of my world.  
  
"Thank you all. With you beside me, I'll never be alone, whatever the future brings…." He chokes quietly, eyes and hands returning to his task, but mind clearly elsewhere. Chikorita doesn't need me to tell her that it's on a certain girl. But she still feels tense….  
  
("Promise me something.") She grabs me even more tightly, whispering in my ear.  
  
("…Go on…") She pauses for the briefest moment before continuing in a hesitant whisper.  
  
("Promise me that…even if Ash leaves us…you won't leave…me….") For a moment the only sound I hear is her breathing, as the shock of her words seeps in slowly. Eventually, I regain some voice, enough for what was needed to be said.  
  
("Only if you promise too.") She sighs, and relaxes.  
  
("Promise.") In a joyous whisper, I return her vow.  
  
("And I do to the both of you…") Totodile places a hand on the two of us, and one on his chest. Ash just smiles, and begins adding a few finishing touches to his work. I know that it may seem unfair to discuss out futures before him now, but he's just pleased that even if he does go, we'll look out for each other.  
  
"Well, I suppose I should start getting my stuff in order. The time is drawing close…" He folds up a shirt, and puts in his bag. He's right, time is short, so I guess I should make the most of the next few hours, they may be the best I ever have…  
  
  
  
:Here, this will do. Overlooking the city, I don't know if I've been this close to humanity for the last five years. The feeling of thousands of souls but a few miles from here gives me energy to push even my eternal patience. Every Pokemon, from the wild to those sleeping in their Pokeballs sends me images and messages, creating a truly psychedelic effect. But the ones I feel most are those which live with him. They stand out like nails from a wall, each of them with their own vibrant personality currently toned by grey misery. Which must be why I feel such guilt.:  
  
  
  
The grey stone rolls down the glistening pavement, narrowly missing a lamp- post, before dropping into the drain I'd aimed it for with a damp splash. I wish I'd remembered to pick up a coat, or a top, or something. It's not raining that hard now, more mist than anything else, but it's not exactly warm. I feel like I've got goose pimples on my goose pimples, and my grey T- shirt is sticking to me more tightly that I would like. Even my black shorts are sodden, sending cold drips down skeletally pale legs. Something snickers that it's fair punishment, but I don't know if I'm ready to listen to that part of me yet. I guess I should, but anger is creating an intoxicating cocktail, even now after several hours outside, just walking. Similar to alcohol, strangely warming and energy inducing, yet secretly depressing and chilling the soul. It's right about now I'm beginning to realise that I'm lost. Very lost. I'm on the city limits, on the opposite side of town, a town I've never visited before. Oh, and with no money. You could say I'm a little dim, but right now you'd be better off saying I'm a fucking idiot. I am, several times a second under my breath. I'd stormed out like that, not caring about the mess I might leave behind. Or the mess I may have been getting myself into. Yes yes, that's li'l Misty for you, jumping straight from A to B, without even thinking there may be a C, D or E which I should visit first, or even if B isn't where I should be going. I know I over-reacted, but it's a little late for that now. It's like saying something to someone at their funeral, it's just too late. You may feel the words make a difference, the world watching may think so too, but to the important one, the one to whom you need to say it, the chance has gone. It's like that with me now. I wish I hadn't gone off in a ball of flame, and to a degree I could still apologise. But I still did. And apology doesn't change the fact that I said what I said and did what I did in the least. The moment my hand met his cheek, not in a caress but a physical attack keeps repeating internally over and over again. I know it sounds silly, but I couldn't help it. I really couldn't. There is something which just takes over when I feel like I'm being belittled. It seems to stem from back when I was just a little girl. I've taken a left, and realise I'm walking through a small park, ducks floating passively on a lake, disturbing the shimmering monochrome reflection of the sky cast upon it, studiously ignoring a few children who are trying to tempt them with bread. A bench calls invitingly despite the wet seat, and after brushing the water off the best I can, I sit down. I let my gaze sweep the overcast surface of the lake, and the white tower with a clock face atop it at one end without really paying attention to it, it's more of a reflex for me. Any time I get near a body of water, I always let my eyes wash over it, same as it can wash over me. I'm just trying to get to this memory which is nagging at me….Back when I was six my family and I gone on holiday, near Pallet as a matter of fact. I'd been paddling in the water with a plastic shovel in my hand, happy as a six year old on a nice big beach can be, when my sisters started talking in loud voices nearby. About how that girl who came here with them wasn't actually their sister, and how they didn't really like her much. Yeah, the one by there. I was doing a good job of ignoring them, I had more important things to do. I'd just spotted a Horsea, looking at me from about ten yards away with a playful expression. Dropping my plastic spade, I was about to swim out to it when my mother, in an even louder voice than my sisters had mocked me, gave them a right telling off. She strode over, and picked me up, which needless to say I didn't appreciate. So, I ended up crying, but because I couldn't go out to the Horsea. Of course, everyone on the beach heard every word, and jumped to conclusions. For the rest of the holiday, everyone treated me like some sort of invalid, an emotional wreck. And I hated it, hated it with passion. Every time someone finds out something like that, they treat me like a china doll, fragile and delicate but at the same time unequal to them. Pity. I can live with bouts of self-pity, everyone talks down to themselves, but to pity someone or something it means you have think of yourself as being superior in some way. Whether more fortunate, more healthy or wealthy, it still means you think that whoever it is is below you somehow. I don't want anyone to consider themselves to be better than me because of some circumstance which I may or may not be able to control. When I found out Ash gave me the money, it felt like he pitied me for being poor.  
  
("…If he was, he'd have given you the money and told you to grow in another meadow…") Chikoritas words float back into mind, spoken with the utmost certainty. She's right of course, Ash has never been like that. But there's always been that question, do I deserve him? But he's never thought like that of me. Perhaps it's time I swallowed my pride, strapped down my anger, and set the record straight. After all, there's not enough time in life for fighting. Time…Oh shit! A glance at the clock reads half past three. I'm lost, I'm on the opposite side of town, and Ash could be on his way to face his destiny at any moment…with the last memory of me an ungrateful snarl and a ringing slap. I hop to my feet, brush a stray strand of red hair out of my sight, and set about finding a shop. I could just ask them to point me in the direction of the Noctowl café, and I can find my way back from there, I hope…  
  
  
  
:Now, the time is now. I will summon him, and it shall begin.:  
  
  
  
Tracey, Brock and Suzy have gone. Brock and Suzy to one of her seminars, Tracey to sketch something. They seem to have accepted me without a single qualm between them, although I felt the sadness radiating off Brock with fearful intensity. I didn't need a sixth sense to tell me how he felt, like he was losing his closest family, possibly harder than he would take the loss of his own brother. I know he was going to leave us soon anyway, but it seems so much more…permanent. He knows there is a chance of me returning, but it was still a goodbye as if there was none. He appeared strong as always, but he wasn't fooling anyone. Not Suzy, not Tracey or even Totodile, least of all me. The way he squeezed me as he bid me farewell, just a testimony to the bond we shared, still share. Suzy was a little distant, after all, she didn't really know me that well. But Tracey, Tracey didn't know what to say, which was a huge surprise. I asked him to tell Oak, Gary and my mother what had happened if I was to, well, pass on to a new life. He seemed stunned, utterly lost for words until I grabbed hold of him and made him promise. It was then I felt his thoughts, and found out what he'd never told us. No wonder he's so reticent on himself, he's had an estranged history. But he kept quiet, and promised. Now, I'm sorted, ready. I lay the gift on the middle bed in the other room, and pick up my diary. I may leave everything I own to my friends, but I'm taking myself with me. I cast a final glance around the room, and spot a puddle of clothes. I bend down, and pick them up. The Horseas littered across them is enough of a memory, but I hold them close to me and inhale deeply. Smell her for what may be the last time…I let a single sob escape me as I cradle them with utmost tenderness, running through a catalogue of pictures and sounds, from watching her sleeping to the sound she makes when trying not to laugh, even the look of amused frustration at my map-reading exploits back five years ago. A blistering cacophony of blurred images and indistinct words….  
  
("Let it out Ash…") I open the eyes I don't remember closing, to see Pikachu gazing up at me, Totodile at her side, Cyndaquil and Chikorita watching with brimming compassion behind them, Noctowl fixing me with a caring stare from the bedstead and Bulbasaur crouching on the pillow, deeply worried. He'd been the one who led them, once he'd found out the circumstances, to accompany me to my destination. I knew the other four would, but he and Noctowl were just as sure. The support, the loyalty, the love, it all threatens to overwhelm me. I feel myself being eased down onto the bed by two sets of vines, Chikorita and Bulbasaur sensing that I need their comfort. I do, I just let it wash over me, still grasping the clothing like a child grasps a blanket. I may have cried, I don't know, but eventually the need to leave becomes overwhelming. I get up, and take a deep, deep breath, a breath which seems to have waited a lifetime to escape.  
  
"Okay, let's go…" As a final reminder, I pull a long, fiery hair off the pyjama top, and wind it around my finger tightly. At least if I do become a god, she'll be with me like this forever…  
  
  
  
:He is making his way to me, and then finally I can feel what it is like to not be alone again. It is but hours until, on the brink of dusk, when we shall become one for just a single instant…:  
  
  
  
Three hours. That's what it's taken me to cross this godforsaken city! And I don't have a key, and no-one is responding to my knocking. Am I too late?  
  
"Hey Misty!" Joy hurries down the corridor, and hands me a key. "Ash went out an hour hours ago, but he left this here for you." She hands me the key, frowning slightly. "But he seemed a little flushed, and all his Pokemon were around him. He explained everything that was going on to me before leaving." A bottomless pit opens within me, he's gone. He's gone. I don't know where. I just hang on to the last lingering wisps of hope with my fingertips and shove the door open. They flow through my grasp ghost- like as my vision sweeps the scene. It's neat, tidy, empty. No, it can't be too late, it simply can't, not after all this…  
  
"He said that he didn't hold anything against you, and that you should look on your bed…" Joy delicately puts into the silence, with tact borne out of a lifetime of delivering bad news to the unfortunate. But the words stir a realisation, that there is something out of place after all, upon my bed. No, he didn't…my knees seem to become stable as a new-born fawns, and I sink to rest on them as disbelief is the first emotion to settle. He's left a note…  
  
"Goodbye Misty, although hopefully not for good. But in case the worst happens, as seems certain by the desperation of the Phoenix to leave it's plight, I'm leaving you a memory. As your other pair is tainted by a nightmare, I hope these will bring you sweet dreams." A pair of pyjamas. Silk. Blue, azure blue. Emerald trim. And the breast pocket, grey. Hmmm? I go back to reading his letter. "I hope you like it. The breast pocket turns light in daylight and dark in the night, from misty grey to ashen grey…" I don't believe him, I just can't, making a joke in the middle of all this. Sorrow settles in like a blanket of cloud, just waiting to weep. "I promised to myself, that one day, I would do something like this for you. And even when made to myself, a promise is a promise…  
  
Goodbye my Cerulean Rose.  
  
Ash." I let the paper flit through my hands, and grasp the smooth fabric tightly. It's too much, just too much. First the Gym, now this.  
  
"Ash…" His name whispered, barely audible, becomes a long, keening wail tearing itself from my grasp. I sense Joy silently move to my side but it doesn't matter, it isn't him. Who's to know if it will ever be him? My entire body shakes with despair, unwitheld and impassioned. I don't believe I could withstand it anyway, but I can only once remember being this helpless before. Last night, and who brought me through it but him….I bury my face into the soft clothes, trying to feel some essence of him still lingering…  
  
"Misty, there is still hope. Look." Joy holds up the paper carefully, examining the other side. Here there is no tidy writing, but instead a childish scrawl. It must be a message from Pikachu, she's the only Pokemon who's mastered writing.  
  
"Misty, when we know where we are headed, Noctowl will steal away and get you if you are here. If it is already past seven, you may be too late, but she'll keep flying back and forth until we reach where we are going. Don't give up, we can still persuade the Phoenix, but we need you too! I know you didn't mean what you said, and so does Ash, but you have to show him and the Phoenix what he means to you!" It's only half six! My eyes still weep, but now out of joy. I can still help!  
  
"Hoo-hooo…" I fly to my feet and spin to the window. Noctowl peers straight back, cocking her head in a silent question. I don't even need to think, I just run over to the window and let her in. Swooping into the room, she sees the paper in Joy's grasp, and gives me another look. This time, I do need to think. Do I really want to go out where I could see him burst into flames, never to return? Truly like Juliet, awakening from her slumber to see Romeo take his last breath in debt of her mistake? The briefest panic sets in, before it's overshadowed by the true answer. To possibly help him, even to just see him one last time, share a final goodbye kiss, and then Romeo and Juliet may be together for all eternity, whether in life or heaven…I throw a jacket on, his jacket, and zip it up tight.  
  
"Okay, lead the way!"  
  
  
  
I stroll through the woods filled with Pine and Oak, in the fading light of the evening, red growing to burgandy, and soon through the entire spectrum of purple until it reaches black. Well, except where I'll be, it could be ablaze with not just colour. I'm just glad the weather has cleared up, perhaps the Phoenix has something to do with that. Chikorita looks quietly happy, well, happier than she was. My Pokemon probably think I don't know what they're doing. Wrong. I don't need to be psychic to know Noctowl has gone, or sense Pikachus guilt at her attempted secret letter. But I don't want to disappoint them, they've tried really hard to help me and Misty by this, and I'm thankful. And I do, I want Misty to be here. But I can't wait for her, if she is too late, well, she is. I reach out to sense her, closing my eyes to block out one sense and sharpen the others. There she is…making a straight line for us. About an hour behind, but I'm only going at easy pace, and she's making the fastest time she can. It'll be close. I really do wish I could let her catch up, and just now, the desire to do so is more potent than my calling.  
  
("Huh?") Pikachu realises she's left us behind, and turns around slowly, as I lean against a tree with feigned nonchalance. ("Why are you stopping?")  
  
("I'm just having a quick rest. I want to be fresh when I meet the Phoenix.") She's caught between delight at the delay and doubt that I may know. She says nothing however, just pleased to give Misty more chance.  
  
("Something is near. Something powerful…") Cyndaquil seems to taste the air, eyes narrowing in anger and flame flaring from his back.  
  
"I feel it too. Come on, let's go." We sink back into our previous mentality, of almost torpor, each one of us sampling the possibilities of the next few hours and no-one enjoying the aroma. Chikorita, ever the emotional one, begins crying softly, a haunting sound blended with the rustling of trees and gasping breeze. Those trees ahead, they seem to be glowing….Oh. Chikorita notes it too, and scurries to my feet for comfort. The group closes up as we get closer to the shaft of light scarring the path ahead of us, until Totodile and Bulbasaur are almost like best men, leading me down the aisle, Pikachu and Chikorita my maids of honour flanking me tightly, and Cyndaquil the solitary bridesmaid, following me close. We all stop as the final tree obscuring the light casts its shadow at our feet, and take one last collective sigh. This is it. I let my sight match that of each of them, Totodile bold and excited, Bulbasaur the embodiment of determination, Pikachu edgy and aggressive, Chikorita still crying softly but totally committed to me until the very end, even to death if need be, and Cyndaquil solid, yet still thoughtful. I nod to them, they all nod back. Then….we step into the light, and look to the right. An almost circular clearing, of about fifty yards in diameter. The trees of pine and ash flanking it, standing tall and proud beneath the milky moonlight. And stood in the centre, a glorious bird-shaped statue of red and gold. Wings bedecked with a multitude of colours, flight feathers of rare magnificence, almost a foot long. A fan-like tail shining too bright for the eye to see. And atop a white and red breast and a magnificent neck, a red and gold head crowned by green. Brown eyes bestowing the wisdom of a thousand lifetimes, the benevolence of a healer, the passion of a devil. The Phoenix, stood teen feet high, almost twenty from wing to wing. After regarding me with almost motherly concern for a few moments, she opens her mouth and speaks in a tone so rich and beautiful I feel unworthy to hear it.  
  
"My child, so you have come. Before the judgement, pray, let us be together, if only for a few fleeting moments. There is much I wish to learn…."  
  
  
  
Will Misty make it in time? Will Ash become the Phoenix? I don't know either. Don't forget to R&R, perhaps adding something you think should happen!  
  
  
  
'Til next time…  
  
Dan 


	8. Duel of the Wills

So, if Fanfiction.net decides to let me upload it, this is the 8th chapter of this tale. The next chapter will be the final, combined with an epilogue. I hope I've managed to pull off this important confrontation well!  
  
Thanks to all reviewers, it's nice to know that I'm doing something right!   
  
Disclaimer - I do not own any of the characters in this work of fiction (Barring Ayla and someone else…) all being owned by Nintendo, 4kids and all other creators of Pokemon. All I own is imagination.  
  
Okies, here it is.  
Child of the Light one - Chapter 8  
  
  
  
For a few moments I just stand, frozen in awe at the sight before me. Eventually I summon the courage to place one foot towards her, and I walk into the circular clearing, heart in my mouth, but steadily matching the Phoenixs gaze. I get five yards away, and stop. And wait for her to speak.   
"You can have no idea how long I have waited for this, my dear." The Phoenix studies me closely, her voice, still tainted by undefinable emotion, becoming reflective. "Or indeed how long it took me to decide on a child. I know now, I made a fine choice." She utters this almost casually, and it tears at me.   
"Well, I don't know whether to be proud or angry." Bitterness, citric in my reply. Chikorita gives an indignant huff from my feet, equally unimpressed.   
"Hush, there is no need for that." She settles down into a roosting crouch, and bows her magnificent neck to bring her head level with me, tilting it to regard me out of one eye. In the deep black iris I can see a reflection of myself, now becoming unrecognisable. My face still remains human, but is becoming unfamiliar. In the blink of an eye, my shirt burns from my body, replaced by flickering flame, and my diary is dissolved to ashes. For some reason, this provokes a spurt of aggression from within. Possibly I'd thought that I was now comfortable with my changing form, what I was becoming. But now, as the change begins in earnest, I'm frightened. And I want to try and hang onto this last little part of me as I know it, while knowing already that I will fail.   
"No need? Have you been absent from the ways of people for so long?!" My nails dig crescents into my palms, outlining the frustration coursing within me.  
"I have, yet I do not forget. I once was human, as you know." She speaks soothingly, melodiously. "I can also sense your thoughts, and so your frustration. But I think it is possible you do not fully understand." She seems so casual. It makes me want to scream, to tear at my body to try and remove the cursed change taking place.   
"What is there to not understand? You have chosen me to continue your legacy, yet you do not consider fully what it is you're doing…"   
"I do. It has taken me many years to select a worthy heir, as I have to do so with great care." She sighs deeply, no doubt sensing my anger. "As the heir will have a great responsibility to all Pokemon, I can only select the truly righteous. I sensed it from the moment you were conceived, this is the one." The pure sterility with which she speaks of me, they way she refers to me as almost an …item, not a person, finally makes me snap. Before I know it, I'm screaming at her, throat burning, eyes blazing.  
"You say you hand picked me, you nurtured me, you watched me from beginning to end, yet now you won't even refer to me by my name?! Am I that far below you?"  
"My child, I…" She begins serenely, but I cut her off with a vicious swipe of my hand.  
"I am not your child! I was born of my parents blood, and whatever blessings you may have bestowed in me are just that. You did not create me, yet you are destroying me!" My roaring voice now drops to a low growl, a seething, fluid hiss. "You see this?" I throw a flaming arm in front of me, and grasp it with my other hand. "This is not me! But this…" I stride up to the Phoenix, to but inches away. Slowly, I raise my right hand, and point into my still hazel eyes. "This is me. This is the bit of me you cannot touch, you never have and never will. You cannot change whom I am, only how I appear. Yet you dare to claim me as if I was made by, no, belonged to you?!" I can see it there now, I've shaken her. Deep in that Brown-ringed orb of hers, some sort of belief is crumbling.   
"Yet you do. You are taking my form, and clearly this means you are a part of me. This gift I have given you…" She rears her head up as I spit at the floor, shocked by my gesture of disgust. I let the silence penetrate the scene, the breeze flutter through my now fiery hair, before continuing.  
"Gift? A gift is only that to the giver. To the receiver, it can be anything. A gift, a charm, an albatross around their neck. Or a curse. This is my curse, courtesy of you." I can sense it now in her, some bitterness seeping back from the memories of her ascension, perhaps a better understanding what I'm feeling now. "And don't give me any of that evangelistic bullshit about being the angel of my life, or having some divine right over me. I don't believe my thoughts and actions are pre-determined by fate, or a god, or some higher power. I make my own decisions, this is my life. And I want to know why you feel you can take it away from me!" Without realising it, I've sprouted golden wings, and I've flown up to look her square in the face again.  
"My dear…" I cut her off again, with a shake of the head.  
"My name is Ash. I am not your dear, or your child." She is irked by this, rearing back onto her haunches from anger.  
"Very well…Ash. I do not wish to take this humanity away from you. But you must understand, I have grown tired. So tired, and I wish that you would listen to me for long enough for me to explain, and not to ignore my pleas out of blind fury or misconception." She does, she seems so tired. Her feathers, once glowing like rubies in the snow beneath winter sunlight, now seem dull. The eye she regards me with seems unfocused, head sagging. I silently nod, and float down to my friends. They crowd around me closely, sensing my flames won't hurt them. Somehow, as I sit, all five of them manage to jump into my lap and snuggle into me. I may have normal legs, but I'm now about twice my original height.   
"As you can see, your form does not matter to them. They just love you for who you are, and isn't that what really matters?" She settles down beside me now, and for a moment we both gaze at the crescent moon without a word.   
"Believe it or not, I fully understand your reluctance. I argued almost exactly the same lifetimes ago, albeit with less eloquence. It is the last true memory of my previous life." It's always the same when talking to someone like this, side by side, I don't need to look to know there's a rueful smile on her mouth. "You see Ash, you don't realise that this life is wonderful. You may think it dreary and repetitive, but do you know how long I have lived this life? Nine hundred years Ash, Nine hundred. A full dozen lifetimes. It has only in the last that life has become tiresome, that I've had any desire to stop. The rest of almost a Millennium has been wonderful, witnessing lives of great diversity and truly momentous events." She turns to face me, blinking slowly. "I think that the natural human reaction to change, which is to abhor it, has clouded the fact that this is a fabulous life."   
"Yet you wish to end it…" I reply without consideration of the stupidity of the statement.  
"Yes, but can you now see that it is undoubtedly possible to do so? That is what I wish to do. If after a single lifetime you have no wish to continue you can select a heir and pass on to the next phase of life, whatever it may be. Who knows, it may only be a trade. The Phoenix may become whoever they were before the change, and the new person continues until they wish to give up, and they then return to their previous form and another individual takes over." She closes her eyes, shaking her head tiredly. "Or the Phoenix may pass on to an afterlife, or just cease to be. Who knows? The life awaiting the Phoenix after the passing is the only thing the Phoenix can never know. I even always knew when I was going to die…" I just let this sink in, along with a twinge of pity for the Phoenix. She felt the same as I do now once, yet she gave up her current life years ago to give the Phoenix then it's rest. Would it not be equally fair to do the same for her? I mean, I've never be selfish, always tried to help others. It was due to this I was selected. The once dark and misty path as the Phoenix suddenly becomes clearer, more inviting. Perhaps this is truly a gift.   
"What of my Pokemon?" That's the most important thing to me right now, if I were to become Phoenix I would want to be assured of their futures. They depend on me, their lives depend on me.  
"You have already provided for them." She replies, once again serene as a summer sunset.  
"I have?" I suddenly realise what she means. I've given them my blessing, and the future of their wish should I accept the change.  
"You see, they have that blessing, and it will ensure their passage for the rest of their lives."   
("But I just want to be with Ash…") Chikorita moans from my lap, her words endorsed by a chorus of agreement from the others.  
"Who says you have to be apart?" This stuns the other into silence, except for Cyndaquil.  
("What do you mean? That we could live wild with him?")  
"Yes." This lightens the mood of everyone, except Cyndaquil and Chikorita that is.  
("But it would be a sparse existence, and as the Phoenix is almost constantly called upon, we would never be able to spend time with him.") True, very true.  
"But you spend much of your life in a Pokeball, isn't that an even more frugal existence?" She is puzzled, she didn't expect such opposition from those she once governed. Well, in that case, she doesn't know Pikachu or Cyndaquil, and she definitely doesn't know Chikorita.  
("No. Four of us live with him in the same manner he does. He treats us as equals and we share any comforts we have.") Cyndaquils flames flare brighter in emphasis.  
("He's our brother, always has been. And it's not right for you to take him away. You have no right!") Chikorita declares with vehemence, red-rimmed eyes shining in defiance.  
"I assure you that you would live in comfort. The Phoenix can adjust things almost at whim, you could live however you like." She nods to him, in acknowledgement. "And I am even more sure I have made the right choice." She starts to get up again, a few feathers falling from her plumage and fluttering to the ground. "So, are you ready?" I cast a final look around the group, assessing their thoughts. They all seem mostly happy, the fact they can still live with me has cheered them all up. Cyndaquil is still a little sceptical, and Chikorita tearful, but they all seem ready. But there is someone else I need to think of…brought to mind by the tightening of a single hair wound around my fingers….  
"What about Misty?" That name, it provokes such a maelstrom of emotions…  
"What about her?" For the first time, I sense some impatience. "She already left you." It's not just impatience, she's worried. I see it in her thoughts, it's the thing which could turn both me and her, the thing most likely to affect fates choice, should it come down to it.  
"She left in a fit of anger. It wasn't anything unusual…" Even though it was an outright denial of any problem between us, I can feel how uncertain that statement sounds.  
"You would give up this chance for a tempestuous girl who would leave you out of a fit of anger?" But that's one of the things I love about her, the way her eyes flash with fiery passion whenever provoked.  
"Yes. I couldn't bare to leave her…."   
"You would not have to." She speaks to reassure, but her words do anything but right now. "It would be difficult for her to live with you, but you could link from afar, and would never really be apart."   
"But that's the point, you see?" I shake my head, fear once again setting in. This future, it's almost like peering into a moonlit lake, being unable to justify entering in case the jet black water is deep enough to drown. "We wouldn't be apart, but more importantly we wouldn't be together." A sigh, this one of sorrow. "I want to live my life with her. Have a family with her, grow old with her, sit by the fire with her, mending a hole in her stockings in fifty years time." A single tear falls from my eye, spattering onto Chikoritas leaf. It may seem strange, yet this is something which means more to me than perhaps myself. I manage to choke out a few bitter, strangled words, left floating on the twilight air. "But hell, now I won't even get to meet her at the bottom of the aisle…."   
"But is it too early to say I do?" My eyes flick up, and the Pokemon gasp, half in surprise, half relief. Misty, angelic eyes fixed to mine struts cockily to my side, Noctowl perched jaunty and proud, if somewhat precariously, on her shoulder. I feel a wave of disquiet from the Phoenix, and a wink from my girl. A wink I return. The fact she barely comes up to my chest and that I am smothered in flames doesn't seem to matter to her as she throws her arms around me in an embrace which somehow seems far hotter than any blaze which I have felt for years. I bend down and return the hug, grateful that I am at least still human in form, despite having wings, just for the chance to return it. Eventually, I can just move the lump from my throat to whisper two words.  
"….You're late…."  
  
  
"I wouldn't have it any other way." I whisper in reply, running my hand through what had once been long black hair, but is now a crest of green feathers amongst fiery locks, a colour not unlike my own. "This is one Juliet who won't let her Romeo die!" I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, just to savour the moment, letting a salty tear creep out of each one. Hell, I don't care about that, I'm here.   
"There is not much time left." The Phoenix cocks a beady eye to me, trying to emulate kindness whilst fighting anger. I guess she's stuck between the devil and the deep blue sea, giving me fair hearing and fighting the need to complete the cycle. I wonder which I am? Devil no doubt, at least from her view.  
"Go on Mist, say what you want to say." Ash murmurs, eyes glittering like sunlight off the scales of a rainbow remora. I don't answer, just squeeze him once more before turning and striding up to the Phoenix. Looking her in the eye, I open my mouth….and close it again. What to say, what to say?   
"You can't do this…." The Phoenix almost seems to stifle a laugh.   
"I am doing this. It's happening now." Seems like even a god can use sarcasm when the mood takes her.  
"But you just….can't…." Never before have I been so tongue-tied, I just want to slap myself.  
"I am. This is what is happening. And the wishes of a single girl do not matter." Snap. That was the sound of my temper after such a throwaway comment. Belittled, treated as an inferior, ignored as a minor detail….  
"FUCK YOU!" I throw my arms up in the air, screaming the curse with earth-shattering venom. "How DARE you speak to me in that way! If you are a god, and this is how you treat us mere mortals, I'm glad I'm not placing my faith and hope in your filthy claws!" She rears up in shock, spreading once mighty wings with arthritic hesitancy.   
"And you think you can speak to me in such a way? A mere chit of a girl?" Her indignancy just blows straight past me, I simply don't care any more.   
"Yes! And I don't see why I have to listen to a single thing you say, and the way the way you try to be domineering and mighty whilst hiding your shame and fear is laughable. I can see it, see it in your face." Ash lays a wing tip on my shoulder, and reassured, I ignore her flaming glare, her sneering smile.  
"Idiot. How can one like you possibly know or understand me?"   
"You are as me. The only difference is a matter of scale." My voice is now just purring, tinted by a silver sheen of hatred and fury. "Pokemon and people are the same, shown by the fact that you were once human and now a Pokemon. It is the human part of you speaking tonight, why would a god wish to give up its crown?" I almost laugh at the look on her face, she's utterly stunned. "So you could say we're equal, but why is it you don't…?" I leave the sentence open, turning back to Ash whilst waiting for a response. None is forthcoming. I lean my head against Ash, no trace of clothing left upon him, feet becoming claw-like and torso beginning to change shape, and look back up at the phoenix. She seems almost lost, panicky.   
("Well?") Chikorita prompts from around my legs, clearly wanting an answer herself.  
"Well, I-I am a god…" A few faltering words before Pikachu steps in.  
("But this is how you care for your subjects?") Snideness resounds through the sentence, a highlight to the doubts filling the thoughts of everyone present. ("I think Ash would be a far better god than you ever have been!")  
"I have always done as is right for my subjects, and for the occasion. But this trial must end! This cycle must end!" She blows a spear of flame into the sky, anger taking a hold.  
("You've been pretending, all this night you've been lying!") Chikoritas scream deadens the world into silence. She strides forwards fearlessly, still clothed in her pale green outfit, wearing the expression of a trapped panther. ("All this evening you've been trying persuasion and pretending to listen, yet the whole time you had no intention of listening! You were never going to change your mind!") She's right, the way the Phoenix said "This cycle must end" left no doubt. I'm suddenly stood on a tightrope, one side blazing fury, the other crippling sadness. I couldn't make any difference to her, so could I still help Ash? It's either a free fall into self-pity and despair or a dive into hate….and I despise pity.  
"You Bastard!" I stride to alongside Chikorita, fighting the urge to physically throw something into the face of the Phoenix.  
"Misty, Chikorita, thank you." I know what that voice means, it means that it's time. We turn around as one, and gasp at the sight. Ash, now unrecognisable, bird-like in every way, a magnificent sight.  
"Oh…" Chikorita just gasps, from shock or sadness or perhaps both. Ash locks eyes with each one of us - Bulbasaur, Cyndaquil, Noctowl, Totodile, Pikachu, Chikorita and finally me.   
"Thank you all, thank you my friends. And my love. But it is time for the fates to judge. I just pray that you have influenced them…" With that he bows deeply, and then strides slowly past me, up to the Phoenix. He looks so beautiful, glowing like a pearl from the depths. Unconsciously I feel my fingers cross, and I whisper a silent prayer. The Pokemon fan out beside me, to watch. Each one of them seems to be performing their own gesture of luck, or uttering their own prayer. Ash and the Phoenix bow to each other, and then they both slowly take off seemingly without a beating of their wings. As they rise towards the crescent moon, at first slowly, then with greater speed, they begin twirling around each other, swooping and twisting with ethereal ease, performing a breathtaking aerial ballet against the darkness, framed by the stars. Now, they're slowly moving together, about five hundred feet up, and the air around them is beginning to glow a wild orange, slowly becoming deeper and redder, so red I can barely see them….A flash! A supernoval glow, followed by glowing rings of colour, illuminating the world with bizarre and wonderful hues…a rainbow, slowly expanding…and then a blazing streak of flame circles the sky for the barest moment before flowing away to the east with the speed of a shooting star. And it's snowing, snowing…ashes, ashes which seem to gravitate, gravitate to a spot but yards away, the spot where Ash had said goodbye…they seem to form an outline, and then a flash…  
"Ash!" A collective gasp breaks from all of us, as the light fades to reveal Ash laying face-down, only graced by a wash of black hair breaking across his face, long, like it used to be. Slowly, he raised his face off the ground.  
"Where am I?"  
  
  
Another day at the Gym, another few victories. Ever since the new gym had opened in Pallet, just about a year ago, the prize of the Phoenix badge had become highly sought after. Very few trainers have actually got one. Chikorita, Pikachu and Cyndaquil still didn't wish to evolve, but the three of them alone became the most feared triple act in the Pokemon world. Totodile, now a Feraligator, hasn't changed a bit in any other way either. Noctowl is living about the place, she isn't too keen on battling right now, Cyndaquil says he thinks she's broody. A clutch of Hoothoots around the place sometime soon perhaps? If anyone should know it's Cyndaquil. Since he began living out of a Pokeball, he's been getting smarter and smarter, he learned to read in double-quick time and has been working with the new Pokemon centre in Pallet (introduced with the Gym), and he's just about due a major in Pokemon psychology and pathology. But he's still a pain in the ass to wake up sometimes, it usually takes either Feraligator and a litre of water, or Chikorita. Yes, Chikorita and Cyndaquil. They say opposites attract, and this is a pretty strong attraction. Funny really, a fire type that's laid back, careful and thoughtful, with a grass type that's fiery, emotional and hot-headed. Swap them around, and you get two traditional types. Chikorita is still besotted by Cyndaquil, and he has fairly similar feelings for her. This would certainly be a unique match, but I could see it happening. I wonder what the kids would be like? Oak says that there's no reason they couldn't have them, they're compatible genetically or something like that. But a Cyndaquil with a leaf adorning its head? Or a fire-breathing Chikorita? The mind boggles. Chikorita still has hardly taken her pyjamas off since the day she got them, only doing so to battle. It could be a show of faith to Ash, but I'm sure he knows how faithful she is anyway. She also seems to find more than physical comfort in them, emotional comfort too. That's just the way she is. Pikachu is really a feared name in battle, rated not only the most powerful but most popular Pokemon in the world right now (Well, no-one else has met the Phoenix, and very few Lugia.) She is really enjoying the status, appearing in everything from adverts to chat shows, and since my partner has written a discourse on translation for Pikachu language for the public, Pikachu has begun to learn to speak basic English. She's working on more polysyllabic words now. She reckons if humans are prepared to learn her language, she'll have a go at speaking theirs. Cyndaquil is again a massive help, as he picked up speaking from reading, and is now virtually bi-lingual. Chikorita is trying hard at it, and is slowly getting there too. The funniest thing that happened involved with Pikachus learning of English was an appearance on the Jerry Springer show, where the other guest was…you guessed it, Ayla Marino. After the traditional staged slapping show, resulting in the shocking of Ayla, three bouncers trying to split them up, Jerry himself, six cameramen and three-quarters of the audience, Pikachu had called her a "bitch". Aylas jaw bounced off the floor. She ate plenty of humble pie on that show. Apart from them, Bulbasaur is happily settling into domestic life, my water Pokemon are mostly back in the newly refurbished Cerulean Gym, coming to stay in the pool in this gym every now and then. Lots of other Pokemon are either living on the ranch around Oaks laboratory - Gary Oaks, Sam has retired - or in the Gym, or at Deliahs house. She's getting better now, and the fact we're around helps too. My feet have carried me into the living room, and flopped me down onto a settee.   
"Hard day at the office?" A face framed by black hair appears in my field of vision, with a smile and a steaming cup in hand. I take it with a grateful smile, and have a small sip. Ah yes, the patented coffee.  
"Yep. Pikachu dealt with two challengers single-handed, Cyndaquil with another, Chikorita with a young girl who had no idea what she was getting into, who sends out a Squirtle against the world famous Chikorita?" A light hearted giggle from somewhere out of my sight, and the sound of someone sinking into the chair opposite.  
"I suppose that the best chance someone stands of beating one of us is by not knowing what they're up against. I tend to find that people are far too defensive when it comes to battling us. You can't really defend against Pikachus speed, thunder and zap cannon, Chikoritas array of moves and determination, Cyndaquils intellect or Feraligators almost ridiculous agility. The only way is to fight fire with fire." We both sip at out drinks slowly, letting ourselves relax.  
"The last fight was a good one. Pikachu took out this girls Gengar, but the combination of its nightshade and the persistent earthquakes of her Tyranitar took her out. Chikorita made short work of it, but then came up against a rather hungry Snorlax. It took her a while, but she beat it. Wore the both of us out though, if it wasn't for the fact she can use Solarbeam with a one-point-five second charge time she might have been beaten. Shame, I was looking forward to giving Starmie a run out."   
"Biscuit?" I grin and slip a hand into the proffered tin, drawing out a chocolate digestive. Mmmm, the peak of biscuiting perfection. Pikachu also takes one out, setting it down on the arm of the chair beside me, and sips at her own coffee. But my coffee can't take away this feeling, feeling of something nagging at me though. Oh, yes….  
"You know, it's been two years to the day? You know, that day? "The one opposite me pauses for a moment, then chuckles ruefully.   
"How could I forget? Mind you, I can't exactly remember many other days, not before these two years…" We lock eyes, brown to aqua, mine coated with a thin sheen of tears. "I'm so very sorry, I still am Misty. If I could change what happened….I don't know how I was thinking then, I can't remember much of that life…." In reaction to the seething guilt in her words I reach over to pat her hands, and then take them in my own.  
"Ashley, I don't blame you. You were desperate back then, possessed by something. You're different now, back to how you were. Before you were the Phoenix." She looks troubled, I sense there is something she wishes to ask, and has wanted to for a while…  
"Why did you befriend me, take me in? I was the one who took Ash away from you…" Ah, I've been waiting for this question. The trouble is…  
"I don't really know. At first, it was more of a case of I couldn't really do much else…."  
  
  
"Ash!" The figure, black hair bedraggled and strewn about coughed once, and then asked:  
"Where am I?" He sat up slowly….and my throat seized. It wasn't him. It was her. The Phoenix had got her wish. It couldn't be Ash, for one it's a girl (I don't know if that reverses or not though, once the Phoenix reverts back to human form), two the hair is a little too long, and three, she's got a large birthmark on her leg. Suddenly, she begins to panic, whimpering and shaking, drawing her knees up to her chest. This shocks me out of my stupor, and obeying feeling rather than thought, I walk to her side and wrap my jacket around her. She starts and looks up, but seems to calm down when she sees me. Slowly, Pikachu and Cyndaquil approach her, Pikachus face falling in sadness as her sense of smell tells her what I already know. "Uh…who-who are you?" The girl draws my jacket tighter around her body, fighting the growing chill.   
"My name is Misty. And who are you?" A look of intense concentration passes her face, before she tentatively replies.  
"Uh, I think my name is Ashley…" I know that right now I should be crying my eyes out, but for some reason it's not happening. I know it'll hit me soon, but I have to do what I can now. And that includes helping this girl.   
"Ashley, there's a lot I have to talk to you about, but I want to get inside. Can you walk?" She looks up at me with scared eyes, before gingerly getting to her feet, and almost losing her balance.   
("Oh….no….noooo…..") Chikorita, finally summoning the courage to look, flops down onto the soft turf, burying her head into the grass before bursting into floods of tears. The others are holding themselves together for now, and I need to work fast. I turn to address them briskly.  
"Noctowl, I've left the window open, please fly to my room and grab Ashley some clothes, quick as you can. Bring them back out here, and find us in the woods. Cyndaquil, light up and keep her warm. Bulbasaur, Totodile, help her walk. Pikachu, use flash to light the way. Chikorita…come here." I crouch down to her level and gather her in, letting a few of my own tears slip out to mingle with hers. She's inconsolable, but I have to try. "Chikorita, we have to work together right now, to get ourselves and this poor girl back to the centre. I know how you feel, but can you try to help? For me?" She gasps and swallows deeply, before nodding. "Thank you. Now, let's go…"   
  
  
We'd almost reached the edge of the forest before Noctowl got back, with what in any other circumstance would be an amusing selection of clothes. Why she would need three bras, a hat and pink fluffy slippers now is beyond me, but at least some of the stuff suited the purpose. Eventually, we managed to get back to the centre, where Joy let us in without a question as to where Ash was, or the identity of the girl. Ashley wasn't used to being indoors, she seemed uncomfortable. I got to the door, opened it, and looked straight into the anxious gazes of Suzy, Tracey and Brock. As soon as I saw Brock, I just splintered apart, fell into his grasp almost screaming with anguish. Suzy and Tracey moved in on Ashley to make sure she was okay, and I just cried. The Pokemon just seemed to slide in and out of focus, until I finally let go of Brock and looked around with hazy eyes. Bulbasaur just staring into the middle distance on the bed, Noctowl deep in brooding thought on the headboard, Totodile unusually subdued and sombre by the door. Chikorita still with her face buried in a pillow, Cyndaquil talking to her and barely containing his own tears, and Pikachu sat on the window sill, just gazing at the night sky, tiny rivulets running down her cheeks. As I watched, she dropped her eyes, and murmured just one word.  
"Pikapi…"  
  
  
Of course Ashley had knowledge of the ways of the modern world, although she had no distinct memories of her time as the Phoenix she found familiarities. It was more the application of the knowledge which caused problems. So, I decided to stay with her. Brock and Suzy were going back to her home, and we trailed along, as did Tracey. There were a few problems to say the least. For one, I could barely speak to anyone, as everything seemed to remind me of him. Especially Ashley. Chikorita, predictably, was very resentful of Ashley, as was Pikachu and Bulbasaur to a lesser degree, being his companions for such a long time. Ashley herself seemed wracked by grief, and her trouble adapting to a total change of lifestyle grated continuously. Tracey was a real godsend on that score, he worked perfectly with her. He really should be a psychologist. But the turning point came a while later. Since he'd been living out of a Pokeball, Cyndaquil had become a key cornerstone to everyone, and even accepted Ashley without a qualm. I'd realised his language was very similar to that of Pikachu or Chikorita, and could understand him fully. And when he was awake, he was the voice of reason, and sympathy. But about three weeks after we'd started living in Suzys home, I'd been moping around, mooching in a back room somewhere, it must have been a grooming room since it had a sink in one corner, when he'd walked in through an open door. I was hidden from his point of view by the other door, and he didn't seem to be looking anyway. He just crept in, sat down in the centre of the room. Then he started muttering, and I strained to make it out.  
("Could've done something. Should've done something. I didn't. I'm a fool. An idiot, an ignorant dunce. Then Chikorita wouldn't be crying, Misty would be in love with more than a memory, Pikachu happy, all of us happy.") He lit his flames, but they flared oddly. Not as high as usual, more spread, flat and curving downwards. He gasped, groaned...and something I read in a book once sprang to mind. Only the quills of a Cyndaquil are purely resistant to its fire….he's burning himself! Why?!  
("Aaaaaagggghh!") He ups the intensity and flops to the floor in pain, but he doesn't let up…  
"Stop! Stop now!" I scream in horror, sprinting out towards him. The surprise causes him to shift to look at me, but he still doesn't stop. Without thinking, I reach down to him, and only then does he snap off the flames. But it's to stop me burning myself out of sheer stupidity as I reach down and pick him up.  
("You could've been hurt!") He growls angrily, but I'm too relieved he's stopped to care.  
"And you couldn't?" I snuggle into him, but for once he pulls back and away, trying to remove himself from my clutches.  
("It's no problem, I heal pretty quick.") He's brisk, harsh. That's a couple of things he's never been. Whilst I'm musing on this he's wriggled from my grasp, and is heading from the room. Quickly.   
"Where are you going?" My question doesn't even make him falter.  
("Just out…") The door slamming shut in his face, courtesy of one of my shoes flung into it does stop him, however. I can see him fighting the urge to snap, and doing very well.  
"Just out won't cut it." Seeing him make for the other door in the room, I throw my other shoe into it, slamming it shut. He's stuck, and he knows it. He hasn't quite got the door opening technique right yet, and besides these are latch doors. He hasn't got enough skill for them. "So tell me again, where were you going, and what were you planning to do while you're at it." His mind moves quick, he's already manufactured an entire tale by the time he's counted to ten.  
("Going to see Chikorita, she has been a little off colour today. She needs me now.") Good try, no sale.  
"Or maybe to scorch yourself to the point you can't sit down?" I raise an eyebrow, and without thinking for once he bites back.  
("I've been sitting just fine for the last few weeks, why should today be different?") The ball has been dropped. He knows it too, sliding his gaze away from mine.  
"I want to know, why?" He's struggling now, I think whatever the problem is, it's taking its toil.  
("It's nothing, really.") Nothing, such a wallpaper word, covering over massive cracks without really concealing that there is a fault.  
"Don't give me any of that bull, I know you." He briefly looks ready to challenge, but instead says nothing. Very clever. "So come on, what's the problem?" Still silent. Difficult, very difficult. He isn't giving any clues, not saying anything he might not be able to cover. And he's too smart for reverse psychology to work, unlike Pikachu or Chikorita. So, I'm going to have to spin this one out of him carefully. Slowly, I move to him and pick him up again. He doesn't accept the gesture, but this time doesn't pull away either. Just sitting there, stiff on my lap as I recline into a chair. "You look tired." He does. He's mentally sharp as ever, but looks physically drained. And emotionally, it's like he's been giving blood, and doesn't know when to stop. Completely anaemic. As I watch he gives me a blank look, before settling down into my lap and looking ready to sleep. But it's an act, he's tense. I let him settle in place for a moment, before reaching down to stroke him between the ears. A subtle shift, barely perceptible, but he's just relaxed a little.   
("Did Ash tell you that's my favourite spot?") More of a sigh or a purr than spoken, he relaxes yet more.  
"No, but I'm a good guesser." Silly reply, it's reminded him he has something to hide. He just lapses back into silence, trying valiantly to fight off the effects of my massage. But he really is tired. "You seem really tense…." I croon softly, trying to lull him into relaxing. It seems to be working. "Can't you just let yourself go for once?" Almost a whisper, and I can feel his head dropping. "There, just let yourself ease off, and tell me what's worrying you." He sighs once, just once.  
("Well…") Suddenly he shakes his head rapidly, and hurls himself off my lap. Damn, he sussed me. ("Let me out!") He almost screams, leaping valiantly to try and open the door, before falling back to the floor. There he just freezes, trembling all over, before lighting his flames again. For a horrible moment it seemed he was going to burn a hole into one of Suzys doors, but once again they flattened out and curved down his sides.   
"Stop it!" I grab at him, but this time he doesn't react fast enough. "Aaaaaahh!" I jerk my fingers away, and gaze at them as they turn bright red, and blister. It's like my hand has been plunged into ice-cold lava, punctured by a thousand tiny icicles.   
("Shit!") Cyndaquil cuts off his flames and scurries to my side as I flop down in shock, just gazing at my hand. ("Quick, to the sink.") He runs over to the sink in the corner, hops up beside a coffee cup and turns on the cold tap fully, ignoring the splashback which is soaking him. I just follow in a daze, and throw my hand under the stream. And scream. God, that's more painful than the burn itself. I bite my lip and hold my hand in place, tears of pain streaming down my cheeks. ("My fault, I'm an idiot yet again….") I gaze up at Cyndaquil with red eyes as he mutters under his breath, gaze fixed on my hand.  
"Why are you an idiot?" He looks stunned, probably didn't think I could hear him.  
("Uh, I just burned you didn't I?")   
"And who was it that stuck her hand into your flames?" Yes, he's stunned. He hasn't got an answer.  
("Well…it's nothing.") But it isn't, and right now I don't have the patience.  
"Yeah, like hell. You're not leaving this room until you tell me." He hops off the sink, and onto the chair. He settles down….and goes flying as I pull the cushion off with my good hand. He doesn't even look at me, just lays where he fell, not reacting to anything. Until I throw a mugful of water over him. Now he's getting angry. And angry is the one thing he isn't used to.   
("Leave me alone for a while! It's not much to ask!") He shuffles out of the range of my mug. Instead press an unburned finger against the tap and send a spray of water across the room, dousing him. I kick the chair level with me with one foot and he's stuck, there's nowhere he can hide to avoid it.  
"Now are you going to tell me, or get nice and wet?" He's trying to hold out, trying valiantly. But there are a couple of differences from when he perched on Ashs chest a few weeks back in the shower, one he had someone to protect, and two he wasn't on the verge of collapse…  
("Stop!") He turns to face the flow but it isn't an improvement, he just gets it in the face instead. ("Why won't you leave me alone? I always leave you alone when you want it!") Something about the way he said that….  
"What do you mean?" I've stopped spraying him now, just washing off my burned hand, but he's on the point of collapse.   
("I've given you space when you want it, same for Chikorita, Pikachu, Bulbasaur, Ashley, Totodile….") He stops, grabbing a fistful of self-control but holding it with exhausted hands.  
"But…." It's true. He's always there, except when you don't want him.   
("So will you let me have my peace?") No. I won't.  
"Only if you promise not to burn yourself." He tries to give me a sincere stare.  
("I promise.") I shake my head in response.  
"Don't make promises you won't keep." He sags again, reminding me of the way Ash looked when he'd comforted me after the Cerulean fire.   
("Please…Someone needs me…I don't know who, but someone does…") He cuts a pitiful figure, hunched against the door, eyes half shut. I think I'm getting warm, no, hot.  
"Like?" I know the answer, but I want to hear it from him.  
("Like Chikorita, Pikachu…I've just been helping Bulbasaur and I comforted Ashley before I came here…but Totodile and Chikorita both look down again today, they need someone to talk to…and Brock too…") He's babbling, a frenzied manner about his movements.   
"What about you?" He shrugs.   
("What about me? Everyone needs an ear to pour their soul into. I'm that ear.") He's breaking up slowly, sounding breathless.  
"Can't you talk to anyone? Haven't you?" I'm the one who is shocked now. I've been pouring out my feeling of loss to anyone who will listen, and Cyndaquil has almost always been that one caring person.  
("If I do…if I do, how will they feel they can rely on me?") My god. No wonder he's a shell. He's absorbed the anguish and confusion of all of us for the last few weeks, never uttered a word back. How has he kept going? ("So I do this, burn just a little, it helps me to keep control.")  
"You burn yourself to control your emotions?!" It makes sense now. Self-harm has always been a way of maintaining self-control, to hurt himself makes it feel like he is still in full control. But it must stop.  
("Yes.") I walk over to him and scoop him up in one arm, and sit down with him again. He's not finished yet. ("Yesterday…yesterday, Pikachu went off at Ashley over a little thing, and I talked to them both for an hour, got them to cool off and apologise. Then Bulbasaur started talking to me, and I comforted him for a while, and then last night I was woken up by Pikachu having a nightmare at 3AM and Chikorita crying at 5, then you were out in the garden at 7.30 looking like you were going to break something, so I came down to you….") We'd chatted for almost an hour, well, I'd talked and he'd mostly listened. And now I realise it fully. He's been doing this day in day out, but never once have any of us stopped to ask him if he was bearing up. He probably would've lied anyway, just so we could keep on about our own troubles. Hell, he hasn't even had the chance to grieve yet. He continues with faltering words, he's afraid he'll let himself down if he breaks. ("And already today I've stopped Chikorita from going over the edge and Pikachu toasting Tracey for sketching too loud, and all I came in here for was some sort of rest….") I think back to that analogy I'd made between him and Ash the night of the Cerulean fire, and realise they're both the same. It may have happened over weeks not seconds, but he's done the same things, drawn away the neuroses to himself. And even now he's trying with Chikorita-esque determination, trying to keep himself together.   
"You silly thing. You thought that if you let anyone know you'd look weak? That they wouldn't trust you? I trust you, and you've seen me cry, heard me wail, watched me growl for how long? But you still trust me, don't you?" He just nods, I think he's now been pushed over the edge.  
("I just thought…if I break up that everyone will think I'm weak.") I just cuddle him, letting him know it's okay.  
"Everyone mourns Ash, even though he's not dead we still feel the loss as if he were. It's not fair on yourself to not do the same."  
("I-I can see that now….I still miss him so much….But I'm trying to carry on….") He buries himself into my chest, and I can feel his breaths heaving, silent sobs tied down for too long finally being expelled. But I have to thank him for something too. It took the breakdown of a friend to make me realise, realise that life still goes on.  
  
  
It took Cyndaquil a whole day to recover, he broke down totally. But it the way he tried to make life better for all of us, to carry on, that proved a great help to me and all of us. Another plus was that Ashley, once she'd come to terms with life and realised that I didn't resent her she turned out to very similar to Ash (another thing Cyndaquil mentioned was that he'd befriended her, he'd found it painful to speak with someone who reminded him so much of Ash, but he tried his best.) Although it did hurt at first, she almost became a replacement. I couldn't love her in the same way I did him, but she became my sister. It was amazing the resemblance between Ash and her, physical and personal. Perhaps that is why she chose him while she was a god, a reminiscence of her former self. To the degree that only those who really knew what had happened or needed to know found out the real truth, at least at first. She could even pass for Ash in public, not being a particularly….big girl if you get my meaning. The list of those who know includes Gary (Who was worried that he was getting shonen-ai feelings towards who he believed was Ash - the horror! Well, it was horror for him at least, he was never that open minded on that score, well, not until he thought he might be getting feelings for another man. He was a bit relieved when he found out.) The other Gym leaders (I think Sab, being psychic picked up on it first, it needed to be known though, especially by the elite four.) Deliah (She took it with remarkable grace, saying she'd always wanted a daughter, and she knew Ash was watching over us. I know half of that was to make Ashley comfortable, but deep down she was being honest.) and a few close friends (Richie, AJ, Casey and co). Slowly, as we decided to settle in Pallet and open a Gym between us (She became very adept at battling quickly, still holding intrinsic knowledge from her previous life.) rumours spread and proliferated. We decided to use the guise of her being Ashs twin sister. Nice idea? Well, it worked. There were the obvious questions about where the "Peoples Champion" had gone, we decided to say he was working on a vital project in some faraway place, and did not know when (or if) he would be back. I'd been very persuasive with my story, crying very real tears when interviewed. When you think about it, I was telling the truth anyway. Sure it led on to a million conspiracy theories and half-baked stories, but it kept everyone busy and away from searching me for the real truth. They'd never have believed me anyway. But the crunch came when, requiring to beat the elite four to earn the status to co-own the new gym, she'd needed the co-operation of Ashs Pokemon. Noctowl, Totodile no problem. Cyndaquil delighted to. Bulbasaur, reluctant but eventually acceding. Pikachu predictably uncertain, but finally accepting. Chikorita, you can guess. Cyndaquil should be a politician. I didn't think it humanly possible to persuade her, but he did. And so she went on, and beat them all easily. Even Lance, the head of the group. Pikachu creamed him, finishing the job after Bulbasaur and Totodile took out Aerodactyl, Gyarados and Charizard. And so, to the new Gym, and life as it is now. But one thing in particular is itching….  
  
  
"I wonder why Ash hasn't got in touch with us? It seemed he'd be able to reach us psychically at least." Ashley sips at her drink, face creasing into a frown.  
"I can't answer that." She must see the worry on my face. "I'm certain that, when he can, he'll get back to us."   
*You're spot on there….* Words unspoken, but still heard from somewhere, whispering straight into my mind. *I've been busy, very busy. Someday soon, I'll tell you why…* ….Ash?  
  
  
Okay, don't forget to R&R. Chapter 9 will be out fairly soon (Not being as long as everything else!) 


	9. A Crown Revoked

Okies, the Epilogue. It's longer than predicted, but hey, what else is new? Hopefully it is a good ending, if you think it is or isn't, just review and tell me! Big thanks to Dragoness, Cultnirvana, Lightning-strike and Donnie Marco, who went to the trouble of sending me an e-mail while reviewing while the site was down. And also to Heironeous, who has been a huge help!  
  
Disclaimer - I do not own the characters in this story, but I did create Ashley the ex-phoenix and the Phoenix badge. Ownership of Pokemon is by people I don't know.  
  
Okay, the conclusion.  
  
Child of the Light One - Part 9 - Epilogue.  
  
  
  
:I have been busy. And for good reason..:  
  
  
  
"Misty?" Ashley, calling me. I can't seem to hear her right.  
  
("Are you okay?") And Pikachu..  
  
"Hello? Misty, what's wrong?"  
  
"Where are you? What do you mean Ash? What do you mean, someday soon?" I call out to Ashs' voice, trying to find its source.  
  
("Misty! Ash? Where?!")  
  
"Wake up!"  
  
*Yes, wake up. I mean what I say, someday soon.* He seems to be speaking straight into my mind.  
  
"Ash? Please don't leave me again.."  
  
*Parting is such sweet sorrow..*  
  
"Shakespeare again..there is nothing sweet about this sorrow.."  
  
("She's nuts!") Pikachu perhaps seems angry. I can't tell.  
  
("Just because we can't see him, doesn't mean he isn't there, Pikachu.")  
  
"Right Cyndaquil..Ash must be creating a psychic bond."  
  
("But, but, why would he exclude us Ashley?")  
  
"Because whatever he has to say it's to her. Perhaps she'll tell us herself."  
  
*Goodbye for now, but don't lose faith.*  
  
"No! Don't go! Please! You can't leave!"  
  
*I prefer the word.parting. But things which part may join again.*  
  
"What are you saying?"  
  
*I can say no more. Stay still, sensational sister.*  
  
"Ash!" A flash of light, and then..just a room, the room I was in those weeks ago, when I nearly threw it all away, and got it back only to have it snatched from my grasp..but with writing in chalk on the wall.."Nothing is set in stone."  
  
  
  
:I knew it from the day I was reborn. I knew this day would come. Because, as the Phoenix, it was my right to know..:  
  
  
  
I think I may have been calling out to him, I may not. But what I do know is that when my eyes opened to the real world and reality clicked back into focus, I felt suddenly refreshed, determined.  
  
"Are you with us now?" Ashley cranes over me, Pikachu and Cyndaquil in the edge of my vision.  
  
"Uh.what happened? Wha.Ash.." I sit bolt upright, coming within a hairs breadth of cracking my head against Ashleys. I find myself babbling - "He said he would explain it to me someday soon, and I saw the writing on the wall, nothing is set in stone..What does this mean?" Ashley and Pikachu look puzzled. Cyndaquil on the other hand..he's smiling..  
  
("Interesting.")  
  
  
  
:I have not had two seconds to speak to my loved ones for these two years, since I have been searching, searching far and wide. This time, the one will not only be great and caring, but willing.:  
  
  
  
I'm preparing, I don't know what for. But every hair is soaked in shampoo, the clothes are on the washing line, Chikorita is currently floating in the huge bath tub with me, trying, with a determined doggy paddle, to reach the soap floating the far end of the bath. Cyndaquil is finding this quite amusing, but not to the point where he'll join us in the water. Well, Until Pikachu sneaks up behind him and shoves him in. After a second there's a glow, and the water heats up a few degrees. He surfaces, looking as dignified as anyone can be while coughing up water and frantically treading to keep afloat. But he takes it in good humour, a good humour we all seem to share. I think Cyndaquil knows something, something good, and it's that suggestion along with the contact Ash made with his own cryptic clues has put everyone into a fabulous mood. To my surprise a mini tidal wave soaks me whilst in mid-thought, and I look around frantically for its source.  
  
"Gotcha." Ashley stood just within the doorway, looking smug.  
  
"Sneaky so-and-so." I growl good naturedly back, remembering when she'd rediscovered her abilities to manipulate wind, water and fire. It was a splashing contest in the pool about a fortnight ago, and she'd somehow created a massive wave from nowhere. Needless to say, she won.  
  
"Well, if you got it."  
  
"Flaunt it." We share a grin, and she shuts the door and disappears off down the passage. I soap up an arm, and rinse it off as Cyndaquil chases Chikorita around the tub playfully. Those two should get a room.  
  
  
  
:Another blast strikes my left wing as a lightning bolt hits my chest. I flame frantically, trying to ignore the pain, and manage to defeat the Pokemon, all six of them eventually, which the trainer sent out to try and capture me. It was my own fault, I'd strayed far too close to people, and eventually was going to get seen and challenged. My luck, or lack of it, meant it was one of the best trainers in the world. Now I'm flying away, but there's a pain still lingering, one which I can't ignore..:  
  
  
  
The television is blaring, some news broadcast I think. It usually is at about Nine in the evening. I'm edgy though, curled on a chair in my azure blue pyjamas, fiddling with some of the green trim. It's like I know something is happening subconsciously, as if I've just woken up and know something important going on, but can't quite work it out yet. As usual while my mind is drifting, it turns to thoughts of Ash. At first the thoughts were wishful, wistful. Typical of regrets, encased in whatifs, wherefores and maybes. Once I'd realised life went on, they became more of a dream. I don't think I've ever given up hope, but neither have I really believed. Like a metronome once set in motion, my moods swinging from side to side, from deathly pessimism to reckless optimism without ever really finding a middle ground. One day I'd be thinking that it was hopeless and I should perhaps go to that party on Friday Night, the next I'd be pining for him, fantasising his return in a hundred different ways, all tinted by rose glasses. Hell, I'd even planned out the wedding. Chikorita is exactly the same, I saw her a while ago sketching plans for evening wear and a design for Cyndaquil for Ash to make her when he gets back. The next morning I found her ripping them to shreds before, as is customary to her, bursting into tears. Pikachu is similar to us, but typically more phlegmatic and less of a dreamer. Feraligator can usually be relied on to perform some form of cabaret if one of us is on an "off" day. And his jokes.risqué isn't saying half of it. Ashley herself doesn't suffer from the swings, but instead contracts a bad case of guilt whenever one of us is having an off day. Cyndaquil remains the stable one, god knows how. Out of all of the Pokemon, the one who would be expected to react most would be a fire type, with their reputation. He even suggested that Chikorita try making the designs, "As I really like them, especially that one. Who is it for?" Of course he knew it was for him, but it did the trick, Chikorita smiling and telling him bashfully who it was for.  
  
("Misty!") Cyndaquil calls from the floor, voice tinged by excitement, and I look to him. Ashley is sat on the seat opposite me, and the Pokemon are on the floor, but they all look totally nonplussed by Cyndaquils sudden reaction.  
  
"What?" He points to the screen, still showing the news broadcast.  
  
("The news! Look!") I redirect my gaze to the screen, and see the "And finally" section.  
  
"And today, we have a record." The newscaster, her red lipstick clashing horrifically with her off-blue outfit smiled benignly at the camera, before continuing in the same neutral-yet-friendly tone of voice (Obviously the product of some acting class or other). "Just outside Viridian City earlier this evening possibly the brightest rainbow on record was seen through the air, descending into the woods nearby. It was most remarkable sight many people have ever seen, especially it being overcast and nearly dark. It remained in the sky for several minutes, before fading to a strip of gold and vanishing. Some say it was a Pokemon, some a lights display, some even magic. It is most likely we will never know. This was followed by a brilliant flash, and what appeared to be a shooting star flashing across the sky. This was obviously the day for natural wonders, right Derek?"  
  
"Right, Angela." The screen cuts to a weatherman stood in front of the traditional map with the traditional smile which is worn before the traditional forecast of rain. "Now as you can see, there is a cold front sweeping across." It's about here the significance of the report slams into me.  
  
"Oh my god.." I look down to Cyndaquil, who is doing his best not to look smug. "You knew, you understood it before now, didn't you!" He scratches his head idly, now fighting embarrasement.  
  
("Well, I didn't want to get anyones hopes up.")  
  
("About what?!") Chikorita looks confused, Ashley bemused. Pikachu, however, has made the calculation.  
  
("He could be on his way!") She's getting over-excited, to the point she has to ground herself against a chair because of the static.  
  
("You don't mean.") Chikorita has caught up. And I thought Pikachu was getting over-excited, now I know that it was just mild anticipation. Chikorita goes off like a Catharine wheel. I can see why Cyndaquil said nothing.  
  
"Sorry to pour cold water on this, but there's no certainty that if this isn't just a co-incidence, Ashs' choice will become the next Phoenix.Although I hope like crazy he or she does." Reality check, courtesy of Ashley. Well, she wasn't being nasty, just trying to control us. And it's sort of worked. But there's still a current, an energy coursing through the room. We've been hit by lightning, and like Frankenstiens monster, something has come to life in all of us.  
  
"You're right. But I'm still gonna hope." I try to ease back into the chair, but failing. Easing means to relax, whereas I'm stiff as, well, a thousand metaphors come to mind, and (It must be Feralgators influence)about half of them don't bear thinking aloud. Or quietly. Well, perhaps on a Friday night..Aaagh, it's like I'm seventeen again. Now that was a weird thing to think. I mean, I'm only nineteen, and I sound like I'm forty-five. At this rate I'll be talking nostalgically about things "in my day" by the end of the month. By the end of the year..  
  
("Misty, you're zoning out on us again..") Pikachu shakes her head, laughing. ("No question what about, eh Chikorita?")  
  
("..Uh?") Cue huge sweatdrops from Cyndaquil, Pikachu and Ashley. They're wrong about me, but I bet Chikorita was only thinking of one thing.  
  
"Anyway." A sound stops chatter with the effectiveness of a gunshot. A knock at the door. We all look at each other. And then at the passageway. And then at one another again.  
  
"I'll get it!" An interesting experiment in physics - What happens when four people try to get through the same door, at a run, at the same time? Cyndaquil, the only occupant of the room not to take off like the latest space shuttle, calmly trots over the heap comprised of me, Ashley, Pikachu and Chikorita, and off down the passage. The simultaneous movement of everyone trying to get free of everyone else also proves interesting. And painful. I think I've almost lost an arm..But it doesn't seem to matter when I'm pelting towards the door, the others in my wake. I get there, to beside the patiently waiting Cyndaquil, open the door..And stare into the smiling face of the Nurse Joy from Viridian city.  
  
"Oh.hello.." I don't think the fact it isn't Ash has sunk in yet. My mind was so made up that the possibility never actually came to it. The noise of the others bursting into the reception area and simultaneously groaning only broadens the smile on her face.  
  
"Hey, why so glum? I'm here to return a..Pokemon who, some might say, belongs to you." And a wink. It couldn't be Psyduck off wandering, and all the others are accounted for. So.Who? And how did whoever it is get to Viridian City from Pallet Town? It's a day or so on foot, about an hour by car..She steps to one side, and I'm left with an odd sight. It looks like Nurse Joy's older sister perhaps, Joy being tall but this person is taller, the Nurse outfit clashing just a little with sheer height. And black hair.It is, isn't it? I'm already flying towards the figure when he lifts his head, and his brown eyes light up.  
  
"Ash!" He somehow catches me, swinging me around before placing me down on the floor. Without the need for thought I'm craning up to him, he's bending down towards me.  
  
("Wooo Hoooooo!") And we're both sent sprawling by a three-point tackle. Courtesy of three Pokemon who didn't quite grasp the romantic edge of the scene. Ash doesn't seem to mind though, just laughing and squeezing them in reply. While doing so, he leans over and whispers in my ear.  
  
"Don't worry, we'll finish that later.." I can't wait. I think that the ecstasy express has just arrived at platform one..  
  
"Yes! Yeeeessss!" I punch the air, and ignoring the comment Ash just made, proceed to glomp him. Full on, mouth to mouth, tongue to tongue.. Well, I have been waiting a while. Out of the corner of my eye I catch the reactions. Ashley, embarrassed. Joy, laughing. Chikorita, indignant at my actions. Perhaps she wanted to be in this position. Pikachu doesn't know where to put her face. Cyndaquil is just watching with a happy expression. He can be almost as much of a romantic as me, in the right mood.Ah, sod'em. Forget everything else. Just concentrate on this moment. His touch, his embrace, the way he smells, feels, tastes.It's like Romeo and Juliet, sharing the forsaken kiss they never thought they could never have.  
  
"I think that it'd be a good idea to have a cup of tea. And a bit of a chat." Joy interjects, but I ignore her. It'll take a winch to get me off him.I feel him get up and scoop me up, without breaking the lock. Ah, It's almost being carried across the threshold. Never really thought that he would be the one to do it..dreamed maybe, but.Ah, forget it. Where did he learn to be such a good kisser anyhow? I finally break off the kiss as he plonks himself down on the settee along one side of the room. Ashley and Cyndaquil have gone to make drinks, and Chikorita and Pikachu are both squeezing onto the settee with us. Joy sits herself in the seat I was on a few minutes ago, and gives me another wink. Now I get it..a "Pokemon" who "belongs to me", she must know about the Phoenix, the legend, and Ash. I just settle back into him, savouring each moment as it fleetingly passes, and wait for the drinks. And the story.  
  
  
  
"So, you've adapted my recipe to coffee?" I raise my eyebrows over my hot chocolate, as the smell of coffee infused with a familiar smell wafts across my nose.  
  
("Yep. It wasn't difficult.") Pikachu laughs, sipping on her own drink.  
  
"What's in it?" Joy pecks at her coffee, nervously at first.  
  
"That'd be telling wouldn't it?" I jokingly reply. "There's just a few herbal extracts which act as a relaxant." She looks a little more relaxed, now taking a large gulp.  
  
"So?" Misty looks up at me with aqua eyes almost overflowing with desire. "Care to tell us what happened?" How can I argue with that?  
  
"And how you retained your memory?" Ashley adds. She's still worried that perhaps I blame her.  
  
"I guess I kept my memory..because I never really became the Phoenix. I may have taken the form, but I never really became the Phoenix in spirit. Also, I was only the Phoenix for a short time."  
  
  
  
"The message scorched into me from the moment I felt the change move to me, leaving the last Phoenix. It's said that it is the right of a Phoenix to know when I will die. And I knew, knew I only had a matter of two years in this life. But you always said I was bloody minded when I wanted to be, Misty. And that night, I used every ounce of stubbornness I had, just holding onto, well, me. It worked. I kept my human mind. I knew one thing, that if I was the Phoenix, it was my duty to watch over and protect those entrusted to my care. But other things, things which were accepted, I wanted to challenge." I pause, trying to make sure I had everything in the right order.  
  
("Like?") Pikachu prompts, earning a shushing from Cyndaquil who, with his typical sense of humour, has acquired a box of popcorn and is scoffing it while watching me closely.  
  
"Well, I wanted out of that life, obviously. So, I set about finding a heir. I've been doing so for the last two years. But I wanted one who was not only suitable, but willing. Someone with little to hold them back to their current life, someone whose prime desire was to help whoever he or she could, but not having the emotional ties to fight the change. Eventually, I found her. She lived in a small house outside Viridian City. Alone, except for a few wild Pokemon who would go to her for food or help. The fact she was trusted completely by the wild Pokemon, but had no Pokemon who actually lived with her or any real connections made me feel she was perfect. Sometimes she got so lonely.It made me feel that doing this, giving her this life, would be an improvement to her way of living. I even let her see me, to asses her reaction. One night, she was on her way back from picking fruit, I landed in the clearing. I made it seem as if I didn't know she was there, just preening while sensing her thoughts. Obviously she was shocked, but she was more overjoyed that she could see me than wary. Perfect. So, it came to the time to challenge the law which I worried about.." Ashley breaks in, the first words she's spoken to me since I arrived.  
  
"But I remember that rule! You couldn't have chosen someone only months before the due time..could you?" Yes, Ashley. You remember that rule, I'm not surprised.  
  
"The key to that part of the legend.You see, the Phoenix is told that naturally, by something within. But the reason is obvious, really. It's supposed to be impossible for the new Phoenix to recognise it's predecessor in case the person feels resentment to their predecessor for settling this fate on them, but a few dragging memories might cling on. So, the Phoenix is made to believe that it must pick a heir person from birth and follow him or her to a responsible age in order to for the change to work. This ensures that if, as was the case in my life, the life is short, the Phoenix will not fall out of the cycle while there is still a chance she knows who her predecessor was and wishes to make contact. In this case, it wouldn't have made a difference if I'd had to wait twenty years, I knew from conversation between Misty and you, Ashley, that you were who I was." She now looks nervous, I don't think she realises that I'm not picking at her.  
  
("Ashley, don't worry. Ash doesn't feel any resentment to you!") Chikorita is so vehement that even if I did, I wouldn't be able to defy her. Ashley relaxes a little, and gestures for me to go on.  
  
"But I was strong enough to fight the legend. I don't blame you, Ashley, for telling me those lies of nurturing me and raising me as your own. To you, they were probably true as well. I found that time scale really made no difference."  
  
"Of course, the writing is on the wall, noting is set in stone.." Misty murmurs, wriggling into a more comfortable position in my lap. It doesn't make any difference to me, I'd find her comfortable right now even if she'd had her elbow resting in my crotch.  
  
"Right. I found a successor could be chosen at any point, up until the point the transition would have to take place. I made psychic contact with Sarah, she was delighted to accept the life once I'd explained the situation, if she was a little scared. It was tonight I'd made my mistake, got too close to a trainer, a very good trainer. But he was very ambitious too, tried to defeat me in a battle, and capture me. He set out all of his battling party, and very nearly did. I escaped, but I was fatally wounded in the fight. And you all know what happened from there..Or at least Cyndaquil did when he saw it."  
  
("Ah..") Pikachu is puzzled by something. Then I realise what it is. The fact I look like Mr. Transvestite 2002, dressed in full nurse attire. Misty doesn't seem to mind, buried as she is into my chest, just breathing slowly. As I watch her, she reaches over to fiddle with the silver fob watch pinned to my blouse.  
  
("What's with the clothes?") Chikorita is more direct. And she finds it funny, judging by the way she speaks like she's going to burst.  
  
"Well, Ash left a message to us too." Joy settles back, voice drowsy. The patented drinks must be having their usual effect on the uninitiated. "He left it with one of my relations, in a City over in west Johto, Morston City." Of course, everyone realises which one she's talking about before she does. "She said that the night after you'd gone, she was sent a message - In two years time, follow the shooting star to the base of the rainbow. - She spread the message between us, explaining what it meant. Of course, we observed full secrecy, didn't tell anybody about the truth. And this evening, I saw the rainbow, then what looked like a shooting star.and when I got him back home, the only thing not in the wash was my spare Nurse outfit.And the rest is history. And the result you see now." I'm too tall for this outfit, for sure. The skirt is riding up like a mini.And Chikorita and Pikachu, now sat on the floor, giggle. I think that says all that needs to be said. Joy made sure I could pass for a Joy (The black hair aside, but I could be a sister-in-law..) with more dedication than was really needed. Probably so she could get a few laughs. Cynndaquils eyes also flick open like a switchblade. I can see him chewing over so many lines that he can't say them because his mouth is too full.  
  
("Pret-tty, right Pikachu?") Chikorita sniggers, while Misty and Ashley both send me blank looks. Well, if I'm going to be embarrassed, might as well go down laughing.  
  
"And they cut in like hell too." Pikachu and Chikorita both do impressions of Pacman, mouths opening so wide. Cyndaquil and Joy meanwhile roar with laughter, and Ashley looks nonplussed. Misty, I can't see from this angle, but she seems to be listening.  
  
("I don't supposed they're made with you in mind..") Cyndaquil puts in, finally overcoming punners block.  
  
"No, but I think they suit me. My colour?" The conversation has taken on a surreal twist.  
  
("Oh, I would think so. Goes well with the red cross, y'know?") Chikorita and Pikachu are now totally lost, watching the conversation like a tennis match. Joy, meanwhile is almost drowning in tears of mirth and Ashley has put two and two together, and is hoping like hell that she has, against all evidence, made five.  
  
"So red? Not blue? The red goes with the outfit. But does it suit my eyes?" I'm enjoying this. So is Cyndaquil.  
  
("I don't think that your eyes come into it Ash.") Cyndaquil cheekily cuts back.  
  
"No, but I think it's my preference which matters in that department." Misty stuns everyone in the room, even me. She looks up, mischief glinting in her eyes. "And I say that red is just fine."  
  
  
  
Joy is snoring in an unladylike manner, after ringing up someone to cover for her tomorrow (or should I say today) sounding like she was drunk. Well, she was. The night had turned into an impromptu party, and I'd gone to find something more comfortable to wear (Not easy in a house occupied by two women). I'd eventually found my old pair of black shorts, the pair that I'd given Misty to use on the day of my ascension, tucked in a chest of drawers, and a loose purple shirt. And a pair of socks, and for aesthetic reasons, a pair of fluffy slippers. Pink. The laughter almost matched the remark about my lingerie and a "Butchers Window" that Cyndaquil made before I'd gone to change - And if you don't understand, don't ask. Just don't. Spread-eagled on the mat in the middle of the floor are the three Pokemon, snoozing away. Well, Cyndaquil and Pikachu are, Chikorita is currently more than a little cross at being used as a cushion. I just watch them for a moment. These are the things I knew I would miss most, little scenes which are never written about or painted, but remembered fondly. Just the three of them on the off-green mat, one snoring with their mouth wide open, one eyes tight shut and snuggling harder into the third, who is getting uncomfortable but doesn't want to wake them. After a moment I catch her eye, which she then glances to heaven with as if to say "God help me!" Well, I may not be a god any more, but I can still help her. Gently I ease Pikachu and Cyndaquil onto cushions, and let her get up.  
  
("Thank you.") She cranes up towards me, and I take her in my arms.  
  
"Don't mention it." I notice something - she's wearing those clothes again. The same ones I'd made, a little less crisp, a little tattered around the edges, but the very same. She sees me looking, and smiles sweetly.  
  
("The laundry is costing me a fortune, but it was worth it!") I pet her idly, casting an eye around the room again. It's a nice little room, very nice. Wooden floor, rug, two armchairs, sofa, table and wooden chairs, widescreen TV, the lot. Walls in delicate blue, no question who chose that, lit softly by two lamps on the far wall. Very nice indeed. But there's something I notice. On one of the narrow walls, there is a fireplace, just a few feet from the corner the TV occupies. Over it a mantelpiece, and in the middle of the mantelpiece..nothing. Not a thing. Chikorita, not noticing my change of attention, just talks on sleepily. ("You don't know how much I missed you, we all did. At first I wouldn't take this off, as it reminded me of you.I realised life went on, and did my best, so did we all, Misty, Pikachu.but we never forgot you. I think at times we lost hope, but never once did we lose faith.I love you Ash, please, never ever leave me again.") The last few words become a yawning sigh, and she dozes off into a deep sleep, with a hushed "Chi-ko." I set her on a soft cushion, and turn back to the mantelpiece. The fact there is nothing there still bothers me.  
  
"It's the space we never were able to fill. You know what it is.." Misty murmurs from the foot of the stairs, still wearing my creation. Slowly, she slinks over to me, and drapes herself across my shoulder. "It's the gap you left when you went.Now, finally, I can fill it.." Her wistful tone just melts me, her fluid fingers tracing over my cheeks, trailing burning desire in their wake.  
  
"What with?" I just want to here again what I mean to her. To hear the dreams she's had of me for the last two years, dreams we shared but never really thought we could live.  
  
"Well, first perhaps a picture of us, just together, then one of our wedding, then one of us with our children, then one of us with our Grandchildren."  
  
".And one of me mending a hole in your stockings, as we sit by the fire." We both chuckle, before she moves around to face me, obscuring the mantelpiece from my view.  
  
"I want to know something.You don't resent Ashley do you?" I can sense she's concerned by this. Since she realised Ashley was just a pawn to the will of the Phoenix, that she was desperate to escape the prison of a millennium, they've become close as sisters.  
  
"No, I'd never resent her. It was almost outside her control. She knows I don't, we still have that psychic ability, I told her everything. She's okay."  
  
"Good." A touch of disquiet in her tone? A hint of distress in her eyes?  
  
"Mist don't worry that you haven't got the abilities I've got. They're as much of a hindrance as anything else. I mean, people don't trust someone they believe is different. Be glad that you are who you are, and that's why I tried so hard to get back to you." She relaxes again, and leans up to me, stealing another kiss.  
  
"You still have a way with words, Ash Ketchum." She purrs, cat-like.  
  
"And you have a way of saying them, Misty Waterflower." I reply, before we both walk to the settee. I flop down on it, and she leans against me, neither of saying a word for a moment.  
  
"So, what was it like being the Phoenix? Actually having that power?" Her voice drops to a seductive growl, arms encircling my waist. I've been waiting for her, or anyone, to ask. Even Ashley, who can't really remember. But when I'm asked, I realise something. I can't explain.  
  
"I really don't know what I can say Mist. How can I explain something so far outside human experience that virtually nothing can be compared to it? It's like describing colour to a blind man, the scent of a rose to someone who could never smell." My throat is choking up, it's been such a strange and wearing day. From the euphoria of knowledge that I may be home soon, to the agony of the fight and my injuries, the fear that the change may not take place, the nausea and confusion of waking in a strange wood, the frantic trip here..The all-consuming delight of seeing everyone again, all settling into a lump in my stomach.  
  
"Hey, what's wrong love?" Misty notices something, she cuddles in closer to me, fire hair invading my face. Not that I mind.  
  
"Well, it's.it's like I've been on a cloud somewhere, for the last few hours, and now I've just floated back to earth.It's strange." She tilts her head upwards, aquamarine eyes boring into mine.  
  
"I'm sure I can help you get back up there if you want me to, I'm not ready to come down off my cloud just yet. There are lots of ways I could do it too." Punctuated by a silken wink. She's grown up in more than looks, she wouldn't have said that two years ago.  
  
"Well, I'm sure you could. I'm just trying to work out how to put life as the Phoenix. Uh, it was a bit like, like living the biggest thrill in life combined while dragging the heaviest anchor. In one direction every sense seems to gain another dimension. Sight sharp as an assassins dagger, hearing to pick out the rustling of one leaf, a single blade of grass. Smell to track scent in a hurricane." As my voice slides from reflection to sadness, Misty reaches up and strokes my hair in reassurance. "But, perhaps as I retained my own self, it was always tainted. My sight let me see some terrible things, things most normal humans will never see. Violence, beatings handed out to children by their parents, Pokemon fighting to the death, atrocities of the worst kinds. Everywhere, by all groups of people and Pokemon. Hearing to listen to cries and screams which would have been whispers on the wind. Smell which could lead me to someone dying, blood.to do what I could or bless them..like I did for Horsea that day. And always, always, I had my memories." I shake my head, dislodging memories struggling for a hold.  
  
"But it's over now. And at least, if you have lost you advanced senses, they can at least all sense me, and this time forever." For emphasis, she pulls herself up to my level and rests her cheek against mine. I can hear her breathing, feel her warmth, smell her hair tinged by tangerine. See the three Pokemon, curled on cushions, heavenly smiles on their faces. This is all I ever wanted. Ambition is for the dissatisfied, but why should I need more than this?  
  
"Come on, it's time for bed." I nudge gently, but Misty only sighs.  
  
"I'm comfortable as I am. Aren't you?" I am, most definitely.  
  
"Well, if you want to wake up with backache." She giggles with warmth to melt chocolate.  
  
"Still Mister practical, are we?" My cheeks warm up, memories gorgeous as her flooding back, all those little comments, our first way of saying "I want you."  
  
"Of course! You wouldn't want to wake up grumpy on our first day back together?" I croon.  
  
"Our first night together is what matters right now." Can't argue with that.  
  
"I guess I've lost my touch." She giggles again.  
  
"Yes, you have." An open invitation.  
  
"That was when you're meant to jump and defend my pride, again." I chuckle too, revelling in each second as it passes.  
  
"Better to know the truth.."  
  
".than live in ignorance." I finish for her, and she pecks me on the lips. Remembering that night in Morston, the one I thought to be our last, one of the best yet one of the worst of my life at once.  
  
"Give up?" She taunts, eyes flashing minx like.  
  
"Never." I reply, my own eyes narrowing in mock anger.  
  
"Perhaps I could persuade you." My heart jumps, but I feign coolness and put on a Western accent, in a poor impersonation of John Wayne.  
  
"Go on then li'l lady, gimmie the best you got." Slow as the dance of the stars, she leans up, across.and gives me a slow seductive kiss. I just savour it for a moment, before returning the favour, kaleidoscopic colours swirling through my mind. Slowly, we break, and pause for breath.  
  
"So, was it worth giving up your wings for?" Yes, oh yes.  
  
"Well, that was for my wings, what about my tail?" She looks at me again out of those lagoon eyes, before answering me with another kiss. A god may see all, hear all, but what is that worth? I'm here with my dearest friends and first love, our mouths smouldering, hands bringing warm caresses. Life isn't about war, peace, power, profit, what matters is love, trust, companionship, those little moments you want to frame and look at whenever life is hard. And right now, as we move yet closer, I know this is a picture I want to keep forever.Romeo and Juliet, re-united in a embrace created from beyond life and death itself.  
  
Okay, that's all folks! (As the good pig once said...) I've got plans for a few more stories, but I might take a bit of a break through the summer. So, Don't forget to R&R, and see you all soon I hope! 


End file.
